


Peaches

by vidnyia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 19th Century, Adventure & Romance, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Western, Fictional Town Names, Historical, Horses, Kissing, M/M, Medium Length, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Period Typical Attitudes, Wild West, gun mention, tent sharing, there will be historical inaccuracies i'm sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vidnyia/pseuds/vidnyia
Summary: Desperate to make something of himself, Jean leaves his town behind with a black eye, a sack of canned peaches, and an injured horse. When he meets Armin, a recluse being held up by bandits, it's the start of an adventure that neither of them will ever forget.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 78
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this is a project i've been thinking about for a while, and i'm going to try and write the whole thing right now during the month of november! my country is in a full lockdown for the next four weeks (at least) so i thought this would be a good way to make the days go by. i hope you like it. it's nothing like my usual work, but i guess that's kind of the point! i wanted to do something a little out there and weird. anyway, enjoy!!

Jean’s hat protected the back of his neck from the harsh afternoon summer sun as he led his horse down the long, straight road to somewhere. Midday was blistering, far too hot, but Jean didn’t stop; the dirt road got a little shorter with each step. He walked in the shade of aspen trees and hummed along with the birds, trying to ignore the painful weight of all he was carrying on his shoulders. 

He left home with a black eye and a sack full of canned peaches, and nothing could ever make him turn back. 

He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t much care. Anywhere, anywhere at all, was better than the small town he was leaving behind. He hoped to find work on a ranch or in a town somewhere - as a young, fit man, Jean knew he wouldn’t have trouble finding a job wherever he went. Each step he took, despite his exhaustion, made Jean feel more relieved. The more distance there was between him and his father, the better. Jean was sick and tired, and he’d had enough - the time for him to leave had been long ago, and so, he kept on walking, his injured horse right beside him. 

Autumn was chestnut brown, tall, fast and strong, but slowed by the deep gash on her leg from an accident at the stables. Despite Jean’s efforts, changing her bandages every day and letting her rest as often as he could wasn’t working. Her wound refused to heal and seemed to be getting worse. Perhaps arrogantly, Jean had decided when he left that everything would be fine. But as the days dragged on, it became clear that Autumn’s injury wasn’t closing over like it normally would. 

It hurt Jean to see her in pain. He fed her apples when she seemed down and let her rest often. He carried his load so she wouldn’t have to, and walked beside her. When he reached the next town over, whenever that was, Jean decided to stay awhile and let Autumn rest in the stables. Maybe he’d work a few jobs there and save what he could before setting off on his way again. His horse was his main priority - but Jean would have been a liar to say that spite wasn’t driving him. It was a good motivator and he made no apologies for it. All he wanted was to make it, to save up until he had the good life his father always told him was impossible. He’d show him. He’d show all of them. 

In the distance, a signpost came into view. It took a while before Jean could even get close enough to read it, but eventually, he was able to squint and make out that the next town, Annesburg, was just a day’s ride away. It would take him two, then - maybe three. He couldn’t travel nearly as fast on foot. At her peak, Autumn was as quick as she was strong, but right now, she only looked tired. Jean wasn’t cruel enough to push her through what she was incapable of. 

They stopped by the river so they could both drink. Jean sat on the riverbank, watching small fish dart through the water as he filled up his canteen once, then twice after he drained all the water from it. His stomach hurt, and he ached for a good, hot meal. When he reached Annesburg he’d get to sleep in a proper bed and have a good bath to wash away everything that dips in the river didn’t manage to. A drink, too. A night at the saloon, a game of cards, some good music… it sounded good to him. 

“It’s coming,” he told himself, lying back and thinking wistfully of it. “Just a few days more.” 

As Autumn drank from the river Jean sat back and cleaned his pistol, tilting his hat down so the sun didn’t glare off the metal. He was a good shot, but he didn’t have all that much experience. When he was a boy Jean often spent afternoons shooting bottles and empty cans of peaches off the fence posts and though he was good, that was all - even if he had considered aiming the barrel of his gun right at his father when he came home particularly drunk and angry. At least he’d never have to worry about that again. 

Deciding to rest a little longer, Jean lay back on the grass and put his hat over his face and his arms behind his head. He listened to the water and the birds and the gentle breeze as he made a plan for the next night in his head. The sun was behind him so he could make good progress through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He’d build a fire, change Autumn’s bandages, have something to eat… then spend the night in his tent before waking up at the crack of dawn to start the day all over again.

He almost fell asleep there, under the sun. The world was peaceful and relaxing out in nature, away from the bar fights and drunkenness and aggression. He didn’t mind it sometimes, but Jean felt too frustrated for his own good back in his town. He wanted _success_ , and he knew he wouldn’t find it without leaving. No matter what his father said. 

As he was thinking about leaving a loud shout and a gunshot broke the silence. Autumn startled, neighing loudly in a panic at the sound. Jean almost dropped his hat as he scrambled to his feet, for a moment unaware that the shot wasn’t directed at him, and quickly shouldered his bags. When he didn’t hear or see anyone else, Jean left Autumn tied up where she was and went to find out what was going on. It wasn’t often he saw others on these roads. Occasionally, he’d pass by other travellers or men looking for work heading towards the town he just left. Jean tipped his hat and greeted them, and they always did the same. He was lucky to not have encountered any danger, really. At least until now. 

He spotted them down the road. Three men - two tall, one short. The tall pair were looming over the other man, obscuring him mostly from view, but it was clear to see they’d been waiting for easy prey and their target had come along all too easily. It seemed as if the first shot had been fired as a warning unless there was something Jean missed. He watched as the three of them argued, though he could only hear the voice of the two tall men yelling. 

Jean snuck closer. He wasn’t ever the type to steal or threaten - he wanted to earn his easy life by himself - but a reward for rescuing this obviously hopeless man from his attackers wasn’t something he was going to turn down. 

“Hey!” he yelled as he came out of his hiding spot, knowing full well he might get shot, but deciding to risk it nonetheless. His heart was pounding, beating hard and fast in his chest. He’d never admit it, but his gun was shaking as he held it out at the two men. One of them turned to point his gun at Jean while the other kept his aim focused on his target. “What’s the problem here?” 

Before either of the tall men could say a word, a voice piped up. Jean had a much better view of the situation now, and could finally see the man that voice belonged to. He had long blonde hair tied back and bangs that poked out from behind his hat, a slim frame and blue eyes that expressed to Jean that they needed to trust each other explicitly. He held out a gun he didn’t even look capable of firing.

“Sir!” He called out to Jean. “I was trying to explain to these two men that there’s a large group of wagons coming down this way from the next town.” 

Jean knew that was a lie as soon as the words came from his mouth. He could see it was a bluff just from the look in his eyes. It was obvious, then, that this young man was trying to get out of the situation without hurting anyone or being hurt himself. Clever.

“And I don’t think that’s true,” said the man whose gun was pointed as Jean. “Is it?”

“It absolutely is,” Jean lied. It would make more trouble for them both if he didn’t go along with the unspoken plan. “I came from that way just now, passed by them before I stopped at the river awhile. Six or seven carts, and hardly enough men to keep them all together. Thought about holding them up myself, but I passed. Wouldn’t make the mess here if you had half a brain.”

“How far back?”

“Couple of miles. They’re moving pretty slow.”

“We could rob you both blind,” the other man said. 

“Then there’d only be one of you left,” Jean replied, raising his eyebrows. “I look like the kind of man who misses a shot to you?” 

The two men looked at each other, unsure. If he were going to shoot, it would have been the perfect time. But Jean didn’t. 

“I won’t give you what I have,” the young man said again. His voice gave away his nerves even though his face didn’t. Jean could hear that he was worried. “Really, I’m doing you a favour by tipping you off. Both of us are.”

“What do you think?” One murmured to the other. 

“We could go for it. Not like these guys have much of worth anyway.”

“Fine,” the first said, in a much louder voice. “Both of you. Lower your guns.”

Jean didn’t move. “You first.”

“I’ll do it,” the blonde man said, slowly lowering his pistol, and as he did, the man aiming at him followed suit. Jean stared at the gun still pointed in his direction and let out an irritated sigh before flicking the safety back on and holstering his weapon. He kept his hand on his pistol and his eyes on the man who kept his gun trained right on him. 

“I lowered my gun,” Jean said slowly, keeping his tone even and fair. 

“Yeah, gimme a moment, I know,” the man said, glaring at him. “I’m remembering your face. Just in case I ever run into you again.”

“Go ahead,” Jean told him, taking off his hat, one eyebrow raised. He was cocky on the outside but his heart was still beating a mile a minute. “I’ll remember yours too.”

“That’s a pretty nasty black eye you got there.”

“You should see the other guy,” Jean bluffed. 

“Come on,” his partner insisted, already up on his horse, ready to ride off. “We need to go.” 

“Fine,” he said. Lowering the gun, the man jumped up onto his horse, and Jean felt relief wash over him. He valued his own life too much to trade it for someone else’s. He’d been way too hasty when jumping in to help this random stranger. For all he knew, it could have been a set-up for the three of them to rob _him_. He needed to be more careful. 

The tension didn’t lessen until the both of them were out of view, and when the sound of hooves faded, Jean finally took his hand off his holstered pistol. 

“Well, that was risky,” he said, leaning against the side of a tree, looking the man up and down. “You’re lucky I came along.”

“I almost had them,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jean. “I was so close.” 

“Well, not close enough, I guess. So you owe me, stranger.”

“Thank you for understanding what I was trying to do… and for lying for me.”

“I really didn’t need a commotion while I’m just trying to make my way.”

There was a moment of silence. Jean, for the first time, got a good look at the man’s face. His eyes were really, really blue. He looked younger than the way he spoke and how his voice sounded. He wasn’t the kind of person Jean expected to see alone down these dirt roads. He looked like easy prey for bandits, which, Jean suppose, was exactly what he had just been. At least he seemed to have wits on his side.

“Armin,” the man said suddenly, as if nervous.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Armin. Armin Arlert.”

“Oh,” Jean said, humming. “Well, you’re welcome, Armin. Be seeing you.”

Jean turned to go and walk back to his horse. 

“Wait!” Armin called out. Jean stopped with his back to him. “What can I do to repay you?”

Jean smiled but shook his head. “Don’t suppose you know a thing or two about horses, do you?”

There was a pause. 

“Actually, I do.”

Jean turned back and looked at Armin with perhaps more hope in his eyes than he’d otherwise let himself show. “You do?”

“Do you have a problem?”

“Yeah. My horse, she’s just down by the river - her leg got injured at the stables, and it won't heal up.”

“It’s infected?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I can help,” Armin said, his voice earnest, eyes bright. “I’m just a few miles from here. Let me repay you.”

“This isn’t where _you_ rob _me_ blind, is it?”

“No! No, I swear on my life it’s not.”

Jean squinted, almost turning him down. It sounded too good to be true, but when he thought about Autumn, he couldn’t help but want to risk it.

“Fine.”

* * *

As they took a turn and began their walk, Jean learned that Armin’s horse was called Cerise. She was pretty, mostly white but spotted with brown in patches, smaller than Autumn but just as sturdy. Armin rode slowly while Jean walked dutifully next to his horse. Armin had offered to let Cerise carry his load, but Jean just laughed and refused him. There was no way he was trusting someone he’d only just met. Jean knew these parts well enough to understand that everyone was out for themselves, no matter how nice they may seem. 

They turned onto a narrower path that led up the hill towards the mountains in the distance. Jean looked up at the snow on their peaks and wondered how it felt to be cold - the summer had been so long and so harsh that he had entirely forgotten. He took off his hat for a moment to wipe his brow. As soon as Autumn was settled, he could find somewhere to camp and take his goddamn boots off. 

“You were on your way to Annesburg?” Armin asked. 

“Yup,” Jean replied. He kept casting nervous looks at his horse. Armin was looking back often, too; Jean caught him staring at his black eye.

“What takes you there?”

“Looking for work.” 

“In Annesburg in particular?”

“Nah. Anywhere. What’s with all the questions?” 

“I’m just curious,” Armin said. “Apologies. It’s not often I get to talk with other people out here.”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Jean felt a little guilty. “Here’s a question, then-”

“Wait,” Armin interrupted. “You haven’t even told me your name yet. At least let me ask that.”

Jean laughed and rolled his eyes a little before looking up at Armin still sitting atop his horse. 

“It’s Jean Kirstein.” 

“Jean…” Armin said his name like he was trying it out. Jean felt, suddenly, more seen than he had in a long time. He wasn’t used to hearing his name unless it was being yelled harshly. 

“Yup, that’s it,” Jean said, pushing onwards, ignoring his aching feet and the uneasy feeling in his chest. 

“What were you going to ask me?” 

“I was going to ask what you were doing out here all on your own. Do you have a family back at home? A wife?”

“Nope. Just me,” Armin said. 

“Smarter folk like you are more suited to the cities, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Armin replied. “I might be weak, but I like it just fine out here. Strength isn’t everything.”

“Not everything, but it counts for a lot,” Jean hummed. “Though I gotta say, it was a good plan back there. You’re a quick thinker.”

“...Thanks.”

Armin seemed a little shy. Jean would be a liar if he said he wasn’t intrigued by him. He was so small and so skinny. What was he doing all alone out a day’s ride from the nearest town? As they rode, Jean thought about it. Already he had gotten to meet someone unlike anyone he knew back in his old town. Jean didn’t need to trust him to enjoy walking next to someone for a while. At least he knew there was no chance of Armin beating him in a fight. 

True to his word, a few miles down the narrow road sat Armin’s cabin. It was small, nothing impressive, tucked away amongst the trees on fertile land. A stream passed right by, twisting around the stable as if making way for it. There were herbs and all sorts of things growing abundantly. It was an unusual place for an unusual person, but Jean, at that moment, was simply eager to let Autumn rest. She seemed even more tired than usual. 

“I forage and hunt for my own food,” Armin said as he got off his horse. “I don’t need to go into town much.” 

“Well, aren’t you a little hermit,” Jean teased. He gestured with Autumn’s reins. “Want me to tie her up at your stable here?”

“Just for now, yes,” Armin said. “I’ll set my things down then take a look at her. Do you want to sit down inside? I can make coffee.”

“You’re awfully trusting.”

“Not really. You need something from me. I don’t see why you’d try anything. Plus, you already helped me. I like to think that I’m a good judge of character.”

“Is that why you’re all alone out here?”

Armin laughed. “Something like that.”

Jean led Autumn to the stable, pulled an apple from his bag, and fed it to her, laughing at her eagerness as he always did. It was gone in an instant. He looked at her and felt a tug of sadness for the pain she must have been feeling, and hoped that whatever Armin did, it would make her better quickly. 

“Good girl,” he praised, petting her in her favourite spot. 

Armin waited for him outside the door, and let him in when he was ready. Having a roof over his head was something Jean had taken for granted before he left. It was still incredibly warm inside, but it felt good to have the sun off his back and a chance to sit down. After setting down his things, Jean pulled out a chair from the small wooden table and leaned back, taking a long drink from his canteen while Armin gathered various things from cupboards. 

There were a lot of books inside. The cabin was full of them, more than Jean had ever seen all in one place. It was a bit of surprise to see so many, but at the same time, it suited this odd stranger he’d happened upon. There were books on history, fiction, old maps and atlases and some with titles that Jean couldn’t understand; he’d always been more of a talker than a reader. 

By the fireplace sat two large bags not dissimilar from the ones Jean left home with. He rubbed his shoulders, easing the ache out of them. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked, just to make conversation. Armin was oddly quiet compared to how he’d been on their walk. He was hunched over the counter, grinding up herbs in a mortar and pestle. 

“What? Oh, well, yes,” Armin said. “I was supposed to leave this morning.” 

“You’re making the trip to Annesburg with all that luggage?”

“No, not Annesburg.”

“Where then?” 

“Overlake. It’s two weeks’ ride from here.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. “What’re you going all the way out there for?” 

“Who’s the nosy one now?” 

Jean laughed. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“Not really,” Armin muttered. Jean watched him as he added things to the salve he was making. 

“If you say so.”

“Sure I do.”

Jean didn’t see Armin roll his eyes, but he was almost sure that he did.

“Will you come out with me and show me the wound? She’ll be calmer with you there,” Armin said once he had made and gathered all that he needed. Jean didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“Let me take off the bandages,” he said, leading the way back to the stable. 

“Of course.”

Jean bent down next to Autumn and got to work. Her wound smelled bad and looked even worse; it made Jean’s stomach turn. It was black around the edges and 

“That’s definitely infected,” Armin hummed. “Is she a nervous horse?”

“No, not really,” Jean said. “Especially not when she’s this tired.”

“Okay. Mind if I take a look?” 

“Go ahead.”

When Armin took his place and started inspecting Autumn’s wound, Jean wished his canteen was filled with whiskey instead of water. It bothered him more than he let on to see someone else touching his horse; she was his best friend. His only friend, when he thought about it. Now that he’d left his life behind it was just the two of them. 

“This is fine,” Armin muttered. Jean felt a flicker of hope in his chest. He started to clean the wound; Jean kept Autumn distracted with another carrot while Armin worked, applied the salve, and then rebandaged her. “The wound should start to heal naturally now. Horses heal a lot better and a lot faster than we do. Just keep it clean and keep changing her bandages.”

“She’ll be fine?” 

“Yup. She’ll be all good and back to normal.”

“When will I be able to ride her again?”

“Tomorrow.”

“So fast?”

“She’ll be fine. It’s good to keep her moving.”

Jean could hardly believe that this chance encounter had blessed him so greatly. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Gods, thank you so much.”

“We’re even,” Armin smiled, standing back up. There was still a little of the salve left in his mortar. “Saved some for your eye, if you want it. Looks painful.” 

Jean reached up to touch the bruise on his face, remembering the night he got it. “And this green shit will do what exactly?” 

“Help it heal faster.” 

“It’s fine,” Jean said, turning him down. He’d always been too proud for his own good. 

“The offer’s there. Are you hungry?”

“Always.”

“Stay for some hot food,” Armin offered. 

“You’re awfully nice,” Jean said slowly. “What’s the trick? Am I going to owe you after?” 

“No trick. Just kindness.”

“Weird,” Jean said, but even he wasn’t too stubborn to say no to a hot meal. “But… fine. I’ll give you a can of peaches.”

* * *

Armin made nettle soup. It was good, though Jean was sure even warm dirt would have tasted good to him after eating the same few things over and over since he left. He ate his first bowl, then a second, and then what Armin left over, too. It felt good to take his hat and boots off and sit for a while to enjoy a meal and some company, even if he did find Armin strange. The weight of his bags and his worries had been lifted from his shoulders, and it was a real relief. 

True to his word, Jean pulled a can of peaches from his sack and handed it to Armin, who seemed surprised by the amount he had. 

“Don’t ask,” Jean said, knowing Armin was correctly assuming that they were stolen. 

“Thank you,” was all Armin said. Jean just, nodded, sat back, and watched the sun setting through the window. 

It was getting dark; time had flown by, and already Jean was dreading the trip to find a decent spot to set up camp. He hated setting up in the dark, but he hated the idea of leaving too. 

“You can stay the night,” Armin said. 

“You a mind reader or something?”

“No. I can just see the look on your face.”

“I could rob you in the middle of the night.”

“You’re tired. There’s nothing here that’s worth taking more than a good night of sleep.” 

“You could rob _me.”_

“If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of healing your horse first.”

Armin was frustrating but right. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be heading to Overlake?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll wake you early; I’m sure you’ll want to set off then, too. Stay and you’ll have more energy for the journey.”

“Fine,” Jean grumbled. “I’ll stay, but only so Autumn can rest.”

“You’re welcome. Sleep wherever you like in here; I’m taking the bed.”

“Sleeping already?” 

Armin nodded. Standing at the doorway to his bedroom with his hair down and his hat off, Jean could have mistaken him for a girl. He blamed the feeling in his gut on that. 

“Jean?” 

“What?”

“Thanks again.”

“Yeah, well… thanks to you too.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Night.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Jean woke up, he first noticed the rising sun on his face, and then the lack of an ache in his muscles. It felt like he’d gotten the best night’s sleep of his life there on Armin’s couch. Normally, waking up was a chore, but after a restful night, Jean felt ready to make good progress on his journey to Annesburg where a job would hopefully be waiting for him. He patted his pockets and heard the clink of coins hitting each other. True to his word, Armin hadn’t robbed him. Not that Jean had really expected him to. 

After he got ready and dressed, Jean took a step outside to fill his canteen, then went straight to Autumn to check on her. She seemed to be in better spirits, just as pleased to see Jean as Jean was to see her. He was tempted to change her bandages and see how Armin’s work had affected her wound, but he knew the risk of a second infection wasn’t worth it. He brushed the dirt from her coat and mane, taking his time to make sure she enjoyed it. 

“Did you rest well, girl?” Jean asked fondly, smiling at her, not realising that he had an audience. 

“I thought you’d left already, for a moment,” Armin said. Jean turned around to see him standing at his door holding two mugs of coffee. “Care for some?” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Jean said, walking over and taking a mug, sipping the coffee and feeling its warmth spread through him, waking him up the last little bit. “Thought you said you were gonna wake me?” 

“I intended to. I didn’t expect you to be an early riser.” 

“You calling me lazy?”

“No,” Armin laughed, sipping his coffee. “I might call you defensive, though…”

“Watch your tongue,” Jean warned, though he had a feeling Armin could see right through his empty threat. This man surely was one of the strangest and most intriguing people Jean had ever come across. He ought to find him annoying, but Jean found himself wanting to know more. 

The coffee was good; it left Jean raring to leave. As soon as he drained every last drop from his cup, Jean was already loading up Autumn, ready to make good haste and perhaps make it to Annesburg the next morning. The town was a day’s ride away, but Jean wasn’t willing to push Autumn that hard while she was still healing. He had time and supplies enough to spend another night under the stars. 

“Which direction are you headed?” Jean asked Armin as they both stood in the stable, loading their bags and supplies onto their horses. 

“I’ll go through Annesburg,” Armin replied. “And stay the night there, most likely.”

“If you’re going to Annesburg, why not take a wagon from there to Overlake?” 

Armin sighed. “It’s complicated.” 

“Complicated how?”

“If you’d care to ride with me, I’ll explain.”

“You… you just want protection, don’t you?” Jean asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I thought it best for us both to travel together, considering what happened yesterday.”

“So, let me guess,” Jean smirked. “You asked me to stay here last night so you could have an escort up to Annesburg, and not have to worry about those two men you lied to?”

It made a lot of sense - Armin had clearly been thinking this through since the moment Jean saved him. Jean felt like a fool for taking this long to realise it. 

Armin smiled. “Do you have a problem with that arrangement?”

“Didn’t say that,” Jean drawled, fastening up his last bag before leaning against the stable. “I’m not too keen on the idea of running into them myself.”

“Then you agree?”

“Fine. But only to Annesburg. I’m not going any further than that.”

“Good,” Armin said. “Then we have a deal.”

* * *

It felt good to be back on the open road atop his horse. For the first time in a week, Jean felt like he was really making progress on his journey. The sun was relentless as it always was, and the trees provided little shade for them, but getting to ride instead of having to walk. Autumn was slower than she was at her best, but it did well for her to stay at the same pace as Armin’s smaller horse, Cerise. Jean rode in front; Armin was behind. He didn’t look back, and he kept quiet, for a while. Even in the silence, it felt nice to have some company. 

He might as well make the most of it. 

“You never told me why you’re headed to Overlake,” Jean said, leaning back and looking up at the few clouds in the sky as they rode. 

Armin was quiet for a moment like he was thinking about it. 

“I’m going to visit my grandfather,” he said. “He’s not well.”

“Surely you’d want to take the train, then, if you’re going all that way?” Jean asked. 

“My grandfather is a strange man.”

“You must get it from him.”

“Perhaps,” Armin chuckled. Jean couldn’t see him, but he sounded sad. “He wrote to me a while back. Said he was ill, that it was serious.”

“Deathly serious?”

“I’m… not sure. I hope not,” Armin said. “Normally he tells me not to visit. But, seeing as he’s ill, he said that I could, but only if I came with a story to tell.” 

“A story? Just take one of your books. You got enough.”

“No,” Armin said. “He wanted me to come with a story of my own.”

“I think you’re both as strange as each other,” Jean said, pushing onwards a bit, eager to stop for a while and let Autumn drink from the river. 

“He’s a good man.”

“He must be if you’re travelling two weeks on horseback in the hope of a good story for him.”

“I suppose we all do strange things for the people we care about.”

“If you have someone, sure.”

“Don’t you have somebody like that?” 

“Nope,” Jean said. It felt like a relief, honestly, to say it out loud, to admit he was all on his own out here and he liked it just fine. “Not unless you count Autumn.”

“I would,” Armin said. Somehow, Jean could hear the smile in his voice. “You obviously care about her a lot.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s not unusual,” Jean muttered. Embarrassment stung in his cheeks, a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t much like either.

“There must be one person you care about.”

“Nope.” 

“Not ever?”

“Never.”

“It must be lonely.” 

Jean gripped the reigns a little harder. “There are worse things out there.”

“Still, I don’t envy you.” 

“Maybe not now. You will one day.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’ll make it,” Jean said, looking up at the clouds. “I’m gonna work my way up no matter what.”

It was silent for a moment save for the sounds of hooves and birds and running water. 

“I believe in you,” Armin said. 

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No! I don’t - I’m not… I’m not good at making jokes. I’m really sure you can do whatever you’re setting out to do.” 

“Oh,” Jean hummed. “Well, I was right about you being a smart man.”

* * *

At the crossroads, they decided to ride for half an hour more before stopping by the river to let their horses drink. Jean was glad to be able to stretch his legs for a while. It was beautiful out there, amongst the trees with the mountains in the far distance. He popped open a can of peaches and drank the juice, savouring the flavour before sitting back and watching the water flow by. He could hear Armin walking around in the distance. 

“Watch out for snakes,” he called with his mouth full. “I’m not dealing with it if you get bit.”

“I know,” Armin called back. Jean turned back to see what he was doing, raising an eyebrow when he saw Armin bent over, peering at the ground. 

“What the hell are you doing over there?”

“I’m looking for mushrooms.”

“I hope you know which are good and which’ll kill you.”

“Of course I do.”

Curious, Jean turned around to watch Armin. He was inspecting the dirt like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. It made Jean laugh. He found this man amusing. Strangely, it was as if he was both hopeless and capable at the same time. His long hair was obscuring his face as he picked mushrooms at the base of trees and packed them into the bag he kept at his side. 

Armin came and sat down by Jean when he was done, filling up his flask with water and taking a long drink. Jean held out the can, offering a sliced peach to him. 

“Thank you,” Armin said. 

“Welcome.”

“We’ll probably have to stop for the night before we make it to Annesburg.”

“You think?”

“I think it’s likely. Is that going to be a problem for you?” 

“Nah,” Jean replied. “Didn’t want to push Autumn too hard, anyways.”

“I’ll share these with you,” Armin said, patting the bag where he’d stashed his mushrooms. “It must get boring, eating all those stolen peaches.”

Jean snorted. “They’re not so bad. They taste like justice to me. Stole them from a real piece of work.”

“That makes it just fine, then,” Armin chuckled. 

“You’re damn right it does.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jean laughed. He wouldn’t admit it, but he kind of liked this company. 

“How’d you learn about those mushrooms, then?” Jean asked. “Some book of yours?”

“No,” Armin said, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. He had a round little nose, Jean noticed. It was kind of cute. “My grandfather taught me.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“When I was little,” Armin said, “I spent my summers up at his house by the mountains. He taught me everything about this kind of stuff… how to make traps, catch fish, identify mushrooms… you name it. He lived a wild life, but he loved to read, too. Almost all of those books at my cabin were once his.”

“Must have been fun,” Jean said, just listening. 

“It was,” Armin said. His voice was quiet and a little soft, like he was imagining those days from long ago. “He loves stories. Used to tell me all these tales of adventure every night by the fire as he grilled the fish we caught that day.” 

“Were they true?”

“If you asked me back then, I would have said yes in a heartbeat,” Armin said. 

“But you’re not so sure now.”

“I’d like to ask him. Either way… I’d like to pass them down someday.”

“You’ll need a wife and kids for that.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well,” Jean said, standing up, “ when you do pass those stories along, you gotta stop using so many long words.”

* * *

They kept going. Jean's eyes hurt from riding west into the afternoon setting sun, so he kept the brim of his hat tilted downwards to cast shade on his face. Occasionally, they passed by other travellers heading towards the town Jean left behind, but didn’t stop to trade or talk. It was best to make good pace while they still could. They rode quietly; Jean didn’t have much in the way of conversation - he had no tales of adventure from his childhood, nor stories that would motivate anyone but himself, and even then, he was purely driven by spite. 

Jean didn’t mind stopping once the sun was hanging low over the horizon. Autumn had done well - much better than he’d anticipated just a day before. He thought it would take three days to reach Annesburg before Armin treated her and said it would be alright to ride again, so he was fine with it just taking two. 

There was still enough light to set up camp without any trouble. They stopped down by a tributary of the river, a little stream that began a little further through the trees. Armin got started on the fire while Jean set up his tent and bedroll, then went to change Autumn’s bandages while there was still light to do so. He peeled off the bandages, worried about the state of the wound underneath, but as soon as he caught a glimpse he was surprised to see that within just a day it was looking a hell of a lot better than he could have ever hoped for. 

“What kind of magic d’you put on this?” he asked, eyebrows raised over at Armin as he struck a match to light the kindling. 

“It’s not magic,” Armin replied. “It was nothing, really. She’s done most of the work. I just helped get rid of what was stopping the wound from getting better.”

“Maybe I should be sending my thanks to your grandfather,” Jean said, still marvelling at the progress his horse had made. 

And to think his father had said there was no helping her. 

“I’ll let him know,” Armin said. “I planned on it, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s a part of the story.”

“I guess it is.”

* * *

The fire really started burning once it got dark. Armin seared the mushrooms over the flames and gave half of them to Jean. Just trusted that he was right, considering that Armin was confident enough to eat them, too. He put them on crackers. They were good - even if only because Jean had gotten used to eating the same thing day in and day out. 

They both had simple wedge tents that were easy to set up and gave just enough room for their bedrolls and bags. Jean’s wasn’t particularly special and neither was Armin’s. They were fine, even if Jean did long for a bed and a roof once again. The night of sleep he got at the cabin had spoiled him. 

“Will you tell me about you?” Armin asked when they were full and sitting by the fire, looking up at the clear night. 

“Not much to tell,” Jean deflected. 

“Well, you weren’t born yesterday, were you?” 

Jean snorted. “Guess not. But I’m telling you, I’ve had a pretty boring life.” 

“Boring to you, maybe. Well… tell me how you got Autumn.”

“Got her when she was a foal,” Jean said. “I was sixteen. Don’t know why, but I just took a shine to her. She was little back then. She had good potential.”

“You must be good with horses.”

“Thought I was until I met you.”

“I’m good at healing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jean said. “Autumn’s my girl. I’d shoot anyone that lay a hand on her.”

“You must have been angry when she got hurt.” 

“Trust me,” Jean said, “I was.”

He hummed, remembering how _angry_ he’d been, and felt that same emotion boiling in his chest when he thought about it. His anger had gotten the better of him one too many times. 

He was just like his father. 

“What kind of work are you looking for in Annesburg?” 

“Anything,” Jean said. “To start with. As long as there’s a way for me to make enough to live an easy life, I’ll do it. I’d rather work hard now and live comfortably later.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? What’s so so interesting about that, huh?” Jean provoked, leaning forwards, narrowing his eyes at Armin. 

“I just don’t understand that way of life, is all,” Armin said. If it were anyone else speaking them, those words would have pissed Jean off. But for some reason, it was fine when it was Armin. 

“Tell me how it’s done, then.”

Armin chuckled. “I’m not saying I’m any better than you.”

“I sure as well hope not.”

“I’m not!” he laughed. “I just… I don’t think, as humans, we can ever be satisfied with what we have, right? With whatever you’re pursuing, whether it’s money, or a reputation… nobody wants to just stop and live the easy life when they get _enough_.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. He knew what Armin meant about nothing being enough. He felt it every day that passed in his town until he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“What are you going after, then?” Jean asked, leaning forwards, elbows on his knees. “What can’t you get enough of?”

“Knowledge,” Armin said simply. “And stories. There’s a whole _world_ out there. I want to see as much of it as I can before I run out of time. I want to meet all kinds of different people and learn all about them… and I want to write those tales down so people can relive them in the future.”

It was quiet for a moment. Jean listened to the crackling of the fire as he thought. 

“You are the oddest man I’ve ever met,” he said eventually. 

“I’ll pretend you meant that nicely.” 

“Didn’t mean it in any type of way,” Jean said. “Was just a fact.”

“I’ll remember it, then,” Armin said. “I think I’ll head to sleep, for now.”

“I’ll stay up a bit longer.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine,” Jean replied. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch for a little while.”

“If you’re sure,” Armin nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Jean watched the embers burning for a while after Armin retreated into his tent. He couldn’t get his words out of his head. Why did it make so much sense? Why did he ever think that he could be satisfied with ever stopping? Jean had always strived to be the best at what he did, even in a town that stifled him. Leaving proved that point. Couldn’t he have made it easy enough in his town? And why had Armin been able to figure that out before him? 

He thought about it until his eyes got heavy, and when the fire was barely burning, he crawled into his tent and rested in preparation for the day ahead of him. It would be good to reach his destination and move on to the next step of his goal, and to say goodbye to the strange man who confused all his feelings and motivations. 

But even still, Jean felt lucky to have been a part of his story. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was just past midday when they arrived at Annesburg. The old mining town had been going for almost a century, and it was clear that it had taken a toll on the surroundings. It faced a large lake surrounded by forests, but the sooty air cast a dark sheen over the scenery, dampening its beauty. A thick black fog sat over everything, spreading grime over all the buildings, and the lake was slick with spilt oil. There was a small train platform, with two sets of train tracks running side by side, one for freight trains and one for passengers. Eventually, those tracks would lead to Overlake, the route Armin didn’t plan on taking. Jean knew he favoured the adventure on horseback so he could tell his grandfather all about it when he saw him again. 

The town wasn’t what he expected. Jean wasn’t sure what he should have been anticipating, but the constant tickle of a cough in the back of his throat wasn’t a part of it. He felt dirty, but still full of resolve. He would ignore the things Armin said by the campfire and push on for a while to make his dream of a comfortable life come true. There was no point in giving up on the plan he’d been thinking about for so long just because a strange man he’d known for two days told him he wouldn’t be satisfied with his own decisions. 

Even with that in mind, Jean was sure when Armin moved on to the next part of his journey, he’d think of him and wonder how he was getting on. Perhaps he was stupid for deciding to go off alone when he’d already been held up by bandits once. Not that Jean was worried. He didn’t care, he reminded himself - he was looking out for himself first. Armin’s choices were his own, after all. 

Next to the gun shop was the saloon. It was just like the one from Jean’s hometown, the one where his father wasted every evening gambling and drinking all his money away, except this one was stained black with soot and its patrons looked sick and miserable. 

After tying up their horses, Jean and Armin walked over to the saloon to rent their rooms for the night. Jean kicked the gravel with each step under his boots and watched black dust fly upwards. 

“Have you never been here before?” Armin asked. 

“Never,” Jean replied. 

“Not what you expected?” 

“That don’t matter. I’ll get a job in the mines, most likely.”

“It’s awful work.”

“Sure. But it’s still work. And it won’t be forever.”

“I’m starting to think you’re a stranger man than I am,” Armin said, giving Jean no chance to reply as he pushed open the swinging doors and stepped into the saloon. 

It was mostly empty right then, while the sun was still high and the miners at work. It was a dusty place, all made from wood. There were a few tables dotted around and an old piano in the corner. Thick curtains hung over windows so dirty that the grime kept most of the light out on its own. Jean wondered if when he got to wash he’d come out the bath dirtier than he got in. 

The bartender raised an eyebrow when he saw them, and it made Jean scowl. He hated being a newcomer sometimes, if only because he hated answering questions. It made his fists itch for a fight. But Jean breathed. He wasn’t like that anymore. He wasn’t back home.

Jean forked over the cash for a room for the night, as did Armin. Armin didn’t seem perturbed by the state of the town at all. Perhaps he found it interesting in his own way, Jean thought. Maybe he was memorising every inch of Annesburg to be able to tell its story later, which Jean thought was pointless. Nobody would want to hear a story about a place like this. 

Their rooms were side by side. Jean leaned against the door before going in, arms folded over his chest, looking at Armin. 

“What’re you doing now, then?” he asked. 

“I’ll stay inside,” Armin replied. “I’ll take a bath, write down what we’ve been doing so far… then I’ll have some food brought up to my room.”

“Boring,” Jean teased. 

“What will you do?”

“I’ll ask around town for work,” Jean said. “Get myself set up.”

“And I’m the boring one?” Armin chuckled. “You go on, then. Don’t let me keep you.”

“You’ve got some nerve,” Jean warned, though there was no threat behind his words. It was as if Armin knew he could get away with saying anything he wanted. 

“I do.”

Jean sighed. “And you’ll leave in the morning tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then have a bit of goddamn fun tonight. Come have a few drinks, play a game of cards.”

“That would be a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“I have to ride tomorrow. And I have limited cash.”

“So you’re saying you couldn’t beat me at cards?” Jean taunted. Finally, he got a reaction from Armin that he wanted - his eyes narrowed and there was a glint in them, ready for a challenge. 

“Fine,” Armin said. “Just one game, to prove it.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

Jean left most of his things with Autumn at the stables, while Armin had taken all he brought into his room. He heard him carrying up his bags as he lay on the bed in the small room he’d rented for the night, waiting for his bath to be ready. He counted the meagre amount of money he’d managed to scrounge together and hoped he could save well enough once he was getting paid and had a real place to stay. At least he didn’t have a family to take care of. Jean had always maintained that he was never out for anyone but himself. That was only part of the reason why he wasn’t interested in finding a wife, but a good enough excuse that if he said it forcefully, most people kept their noses out of his business. 

Despite the grubbiness of the town, the bath was clean and Jean was glad to wash the dirt and grime from his body with water that wasn’t freezing cold and from the river. He almost fell asleep there, feeling the warmth of the water pull the tension from his muscles and soothe his aching back. His journey so far had been leading up to this moment of sweet rest, and it was so worth it. 

Jean put on clean clothes when he got out and headed first to the general store. He had the experience, he knew what he was doing, and if the owner needed someone to lend a hand, Jean was more than willing. It was his first choice, what he knew, and a good first rung of the ladder he was raring to climb. 

He had no luck. 

The shopkeeper laughed at him when Jean asked about the prospect of work there - as did the owner of the gunshop, the stableboys, and the train workers. He was laughed out of the post office and the brewery, and even the newspaper seller let out a snort when Jean asked him about his line of work. 

Men that were able worked in the mines, they all said. It was Jean’s last choice, but it was better than nothing. Better than being at home, he reminded himself. Better than being anywhere near his father. If he had to go into the mines, he would. It wasn’t forever. Nothing was. Jean still felt dejected by the townsfolk’s laughter, but he swallowed his pride and strode up the tall hill to the entrance of the mines, parallel to the tracks that led inside. 

The main entrance to the mine was surrounded by a few small wooden structures. A sign hung over the entrance and a few men milled around. Two men sat on the bank of the hill, wearing tattered clothes stained with soot. Even their beards were black from the coal; they looked old and miserable. A few more men milled around or stood eating from small bowls. The sound of coughing felt as natural as bird song in the early morning, but half as pleasant and twice as loud. 

The only man that wasn’t stained with soot and dirt was the one that Jean walked up to. He had an expensive-looking hat and a foul expression begging to be punched right off. Jean swallowed that thought and made his way to introduce himself.

“Jean Kirstein. I’m looking for work,” he said, holding out his hand. The man didn’t take it, instead taking a long look at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Are you fit?” 

“Yessir.”

“Then there’s work for you in the mines. Get down here at five o’clock tomorrow morning and sign up. Someone else will tell you what to do. Now go.” 

Jean blinked, taken aback. He knew he should have expected it, but there was something about being talked down to that got under his skin and made his blood boil. Still, he swallowed it, nodded, and turned to walk away and back down to the saloon where he felt very much like drinking away his problems for the evening.

* * *

Jean ate in his rented room that night, kicked back in the cheap wooden chair with his feet up on the table. The meal was hot but didn’t taste like much. Jean didn’t mind; his thoughts were elsewhere. Those men had looked so old, and so tired. They must have been working those jobs for years and years on end, decades even, without making any kind of change. Would Jean become one of them? Would the years pass by underground with no chance of progress? 

He finished his plate and took off his hat, running his hands through his hair and sighing loudly. He tried to focus on what he knew was true. He could leave at any time. He didn’t have a family so his money was all his own. It would all be alright, as long as he worked hard. Right? 

A knock at the door startled him, bringing Jean out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah?” he called, expecting it to be one of the girls coming to take his plate or offer services he very much didn’t want. 

“It’s me,” came Armin’s voice from the other side. 

“Armin,” Jean said quickly, sitting up straight. “Come on in. The door’s unlocked.”

Armin slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. He’d obviously bathed, too - his hair was still a little wet and half-tied up, and his skin had a bit of a glow to it. 

“I thought you were going to bother me to come and drink with you,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing,” Jean bluffed. “I’m fine. Just more tired now I’ve rested a little, is all.”

“Have you not taken your things inside?” 

“Nope. Left most of my bags with Autumn.”

“Oh,” Armin said. “You want to come down for that game of cards?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jean said, really needing it. “Loser buys the drinks.”

Armin smiled, looking both excited and a little nervous. Jean wondered what tricks he had up his sleeve. It would be good to play against someone with half a brain for once. 

Downstairs in the saloon, it was much more crowded. A girl at the piano was attracting most of the attention in the room, so the table the furthest from her was empty. Jean and Armin sat down there. Around them, tired-looking miners watched her play like it was the only good thing in their lives besides the booze they were drinking. Some of them were rowdier than others - mainly those who were younger. Maybe they didn’t yet know where their lives were headed. Maybe Jean was just as ignorant as them. 

“I don’t drink often,” Armin said, eyeing the shots of whiskey Jean bought for them both. 

“You a nasty drunk?”

“Not at all. I’m the opposite.”

“Don’t tell me you’ll start flirting with the barmaids,” Jean teased, leaning forward and raising an eyebrow. He picked up the cards Armin brought and started to shuffle them. 

“No!” Armin exclaimed, turning beet red and waving his hands. “Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not - I’m not like that at all, I assure you. I just get a bit silly.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of silliness every now and then,” Jean snorted. “It’ll be nice to see you loosen up a bit.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Watch your tongue, Arlert.”

Armin just laughed, setting their drinks to the side as Jean dealt the cards and they got started playing. 

The hours began to fly. Even with all that was on his mind, Jean still had fun; he’d never enjoyed losing at cards so much in his entire life. Armin outsmarted him at every turn and even seemed to have strategies for the luck-based games - Jean lost blackjack to Armin five times in a row, but it got him laughing and drew his mind away from things he didn’t want to think about. They both drank, their supply of whiskey quickly dwindling. Each time Armin took a sip he winced like the liquor was burning his throat. Jean found it cute; it made him laugh, and when he laughed Armin did too. 

Everything seemed fine to Jean in there, now, with the haze of drunkenness over him. And Armin was in front of him, laughing, his eyes lit up, not so concerned about whatever usually kept him so alert and guarded. But even when drunk Armin was still quick as a whip, just much more giggly, too. 

“That’s a twenty-two,” Armin laughed, beating Jean at blackjack again. “You shouldn’t have hit.” 

Jean groaned when Armin put down his cards that only totalled up to fifteen. “I hate you, you damn cheater.”

“I’m not a cheater!” Armin exclaimed. His voice was slurring. It was cute. 

“Like hell you aren’t.”

“I swear I’m not!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re just too damn smart for your own good.”

“Nobody should stop learning, it’s too fun,” Armin beamed at him, and his smile there like that made something long repressed stir inside of Jean, perhaps brought out by the alcohol in part. He felt his stomach clench and his hands begin to sweat as he longed to get a little closer to the man sitting opposite him. “Jean?” 

When Armin said his name Jean realised he’d zoned out.

“Sorry,” he slurred, a smile still on his face, cheeks red from not just the alcohol. “What were you saying?”

“I said we should probably - probably leave it there,” Armin replied, laughing for no reason. “I have - I have to leave early in the morning.”

Jean hummed, disappointed. The words started to come out on their own, of their own volition. 

“You know, I’ll miss having you around,” he said, always sincere, leaning forwards to look right into Armin’s blue eyes. Armin seemed to startle back, turning even more red himself, and almost tripped over himself looking for an answer - but it didn’t matter, because the saloon doors swung open and sent the place into silence before he could say a word. 

Every head in the building turned towards the two men that walked inside. Even with his inhibited sentences, Jean recognised their faces, and all that came to mind was that they were really, seriously screwed. 

“Jean,” Armin whispered, still laughing a little bit. “Oh no.”

“Oh no,” Jean laughed back quietly. He knew they were in a bad situation, but he couldn’t help but find it funny if only because Armin was laughing too. Those two men in the door were the same pair he and Armin had tricked the day they met. The very same men that promised to remember their faces. “We should sneak back upstairs, to our rooms.”

The first of the two tall men walked in and over to the bar. Everyone else was quiet. Their hands rested on their guns. It was clear that they were both feared and respected; there was no doubt that any townsperson would sell them out if they were noticed. 

“We can’t.” Armin shook his head. “It’s too noticeable. Just keep… keep your head down.”

Jean nodded, turning his back to where the men were ordering at the bar. The bated breath of the others around seemed to lessen once they got their drinks and slowly, conversations and music began to pick back up. Jean couldn’t risk turning around, but he kept his hand on his holstered gun, just in case, even though he wasn’t certain he could shoot straight at  _ all. _

His heart was in his throat but when he met Armin’s eyes and they realised how bad this situation was it just became funnier and funnier. He could barely hold in his laughter, and neither could Armin from the looks of it. 

“Don’t,” he whispered, his whole body tensing up even more when he heard footsteps approaching them. 

“I hear we have some newcomers,” the voice Jean recognised said. It was like he didn’t have it in him to be scared, even though he knew he really, definitely should have been. He looked up at Armin, giddy with anticipation for the moment those men realised who they were. Their eyes met. 

They were going to have to make a run for it. Jean knew he was far too drunk for a duel or even just a bar-fight, even if he was raring to go. Bandits played dirty. 

“We were just going,” Armin said, standing up, keeping his head down, too short for the men to get a good look at his face. Jean still had his back to them, and he went to follow Armin, but before he could move he felt a large, strong hand grip his shoulder. 

Jean couldn’t help it. He let out a laugh. 

“Something funny to you?” the bandit asked, roughly turning him around, and Jean saw the exact moment when the man assaulting him recognised the face he’d sworn to remember. “ _ You!  _ You’re the two little shits who- _ ”  _

“Get ‘em!” his partner interrupted.

Only a second passed before everything descended into chaos. In an instant Jean and Armin caught sight of each other again and the bandit let go of Jean’s shoulder to grab for his gun. Then the bar erupted, yells and shouts coming from the town as Jean and Armin drunkenly ran off, heading for the doors, knocking over tables and into people as they went. 

“Hey!” the second bandit shouted, and made a grab for Armin, but only managed to catch onto his sleeve. Armin slipped out of his jacket, leaving it behind in the man’s hand as he and Jean ran, laughing so hard it hurt even in the fear of being shot. They were too drunk, too giddy to really comprehend just how much danger they were in, even when a shot was fired at them. Jean didn’t know the gun had even fired until he heard the ringing in his ears after the bang. He just ran with Armin at his side until they made it out onto the dark, dirty street, just stopping for a second until another loud shot rang out into the night and they were off again. 

Jean was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. It hurt in his chest to keep going, to keep running while he laughed but he didn’t stop - he didn’t think he  _ could _ . Armin was trailing, unable to keep up, so Jean grabbed his wrist and pulled him forwards so he wouldn’t fall behind. 

“The horses!” Armin yelled. “We need - we need to go!” 

“I know!” Jean shouted right back. “We’re nearly there!” 

They ran over the train tracks, heading directly to the stables, needing to get on their horses and far, far away from this town and the bandits that they now knew lived there. Bursting inside with just enough distance between them and the bandits, Armin managed to get up onto his horse while Jean took a few precious seconds to load Autumn with the supplies he’d thankfully left with her. 

“Go!” he yelled once they were both ready. Fear was gripping Jean’s chest now, souring his laughter when he thought about putting his horse in danger, but he didn’t let it consume him, instead pressing on, letting Autumn make incredible speed as she and Cerise galloped out of the stables and backwards the way they came. Shots went off, firing into the night, the two bandits running after on foot, outmatched by the horses carrying Jean and Armin towards relative safety. While the shots got quieter, Jean didn’t dare to slow down. He could feel the cold night, the wind in his hair and against his face as they rode down the dirt road, exhilarating and exciting, the adventure pulsing through him, something he’d never known. Now he was sure Autumn wasn’t in immediate danger those emotions took over him again. 

They split off up a small trail into the trees, diverting from the main path to hopefully avoid being found if the bandits really wanted to come after them. Jean’s chest hurt from running and riding and  _ laughing. _ Had he ever felt this excited in his entire life? It wasn’t until they were miles away that the feeling died down, and they finally stopped in the middle of nowhere to let the horses rest. 

“Oh, gods,” Armin laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. “We’re alive!” 

“Just barely,” Jean replied, laughing just as hard, leaning against Autumn and trying to catch his breath. The moon provided just enough light to see by; Jean caught the glint in Armin’s eyes as they smiled at each other. The air felt so much cleaner out here, and his mind was clearing up from the rush of excitement, drunkenness easing a little. He didn’t notice anything had changed until he looked up and saw Armin staring at him. 

“This is so… we’re in the middle of nowhere!” Armin said, shivering. He’d lost his jacket, and not just that, Jean realised - all his things were back in the room Armin had been renting. “And I don’t have anything, you can’t go back there to work and-”

“Armin-”

Their eyes met again and Jean was confused as he saw Armin’s face break out into a smile. A second passed in silence. 

“But wasn’t that so  _ exciting?”  _

And instantly, Jean was smiling too. 

“Yeah, it was. It - really was.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: this chapter contains a few mentions of physical abuse. (non-graphic)

“So what now?” Jean asked, looking up at the cloudless sky, finding north from the brightest star. He felt much more sober after all the fresh air and excitement, only a little drowsy, though he could feel a headache coming on. “Are we going to go back to get your things?”

“I… don’t want to risk that,” Armin said quietly. The slur was mostly gone from his voice, too. 

“What do you still have with you?” 

“Some money,” Armin said. “My bedroll and the clothes on my back.”

“Don’t you think it’s worth a shot to go-”

“Not at all. They were out to kill us, Jean. They’ll be waiting. Maybe they’re too lazy to come  _ looking _ , but they’ll definitely be waiting.”

“If you think so,” Jean sighed, walking over to Autumn, stroking her mane and calming her down a little. “You did good, girl.”

“Jean, I…” Armin said, but Jean only had to take one look at him before shaking his head. 

“You’re cold,” he murmured. Armin was shivering. It was late, and there was a chill in the air despite it being summer - Armin lost his jacket, so there was no doubt he must have been freezing. 

“I am,” Armin breathed. He rubbed his eyes like he was trying to force away whatever alcohol remained in his system. “We should make a fire.” 

“Take this in the meantime.” Jean shrugged off his jacket and held it out, not looking at Armin. 

“I - I couldn’t -”

“You damn well will,” Jean said. “I don’t feel the cold much, so take it before I change my mind.”

“...Okay.”

Armin took Jean’s coat and put it on. It was far too big on him - the sleeves hung over his hands, and it reached down to his thighs, but it looked warm and that was what mattered. Just the sight of it made Jean’s stomach feel tight in a way that was very much a problem for him. He closed his eyes and took a breath in, swallowing down his urge and squashing it before it had a chance to settle. There was no way he could let those emotions grow any stronger. Not when he was so worried about what they might mean.

“Thank you,” Armin said, pulling it tight around him and not looking at Jean either.

In the low light, the two of them managed to build a fire. It took a little while, but eventually it was burning well. While Armin sat cross-legged on the ground in front of it, warming his hands, Jean set up his tent. The night he had hoped to spend in a warm bed would instead be another lying out in the night, but there was no point in feeling sorry for himself when he’d escaped Annesburg with no harm to himself or to Autumn. 

When Jean was finished with the tent, he changed Autumn’s bandages and then sat down by the fire, opposite Armin, who was staring into the flames with a worried expression on his face. What had been funny earlier perhaps felt more serious now that their excitement and giddiness had worn off. 

“Jean, I…” 

“What?”

“I’m really sorry.” Armin looked like he was trying not to cry and it made an uncomfortable feeling squirm in Jean’s gut. He didn’t like it, not at all. “I feel terrible.”

“Well stop it,” Jean said. “What’re you even sorry for?” 

“For dragging you into this mess! You were just looking for work, and I… now we can’t go back there, and…”

“Stop taking credit for the choices I made,” Jean said, leaning forwards to give Armin a somewhat harsh look. “You didn’t drag me into anything. What I did led me here, alright?”

“But - what about your job?” 

Jean paused for a second, thinking about it. He really couldn’t go back to Annesburg now, at least not for a while, which meant that the job at the mines wasn’t really one he could take. 

But it wasn’t one he’d wanted either. 

“It’s fine,” Jean told him, shaking his head. “I didn’t really feel like wasting my life away down there either.”

“I’m glad… I don’t think it would suit you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Working in the mine? That’s not you.”

“You think you know me awfully well.”

“But am I wrong?”

“...No,” Jean admitted. 

A moment of quiet passed.

“What are you going to do now?” Armin asked eventually. 

“Once we make it to the next town, I’ll ask around or stop off by the next ranch we pass.” 

“We?” 

Jean turned bright red when he saw Armin’s curious expression, one eyebrow raised in surprise. 

“We’re both going the same way, aren’t we?” Jean said quickly, narrowing his eyes. “ Don’t you go making assumptions. It’s just what’s convenient.” 

“If you’re sure.”

“I  _ am.  _ Now stop feeling all sorry for yourself and lets at least get to the next town so you can get some clothes. Or were you going to go back to your cabin and start the journey over?”

“No, I won’t do that,” Armin said. “I’m already two days in… so it’ll be another four before I’m even back at this point, and I… don’t know how much time I’m going to have once I get there.”

“To see your grandfather? Is it that bad?”

“I’m not sure,” Armin said. “He always plays things off to be not as bad as they are. The fact that he wrote to me at all makes me think it’s serious.”

“At least you have a hell of a story to tell him when you get there.”

Armin looked up at him, and smiled brightly, nodding. “You’re right.”

Silence descended over them for a little while. Jean listened to the crackling of the fire and watched the stars, wondering if he’d ever get to tell this story someday. Maybe he’d tell it to whatever friends he might make in the future, if such a thing ever happened. 

“Do you want a can of peaches?” he asked eventually. 

“Mm,” Armin hummed. “Thank you.”

“Nah, you’re doing me a favour,” Jean said. “I’ve got so many of these, I really should be shifting them.”

Jean handed Armin a can and there was a moment where they both struggled to open them and then drank the juice as quickly as possible. 

“That’s so good,” Armin said with his mouth full. Jean chuckled when he saw him. “Where did you get all these?”

“I stole them,” Jean admitted, fishing out another slice of peach with his fingers and dropping it into his mouth. “Thought you guessed that already.”

“Well, I did guess that. But where from?”

“My old man.”

“You stole them from your father?” Armin asked. Jean nodded. “Why?” 

“As one last ’fuck you’,” Jean chuckled, but he didn’t really feel the warmth of laughter in his chest. He paused for Armin to say something, but Armin just sat patiently, waiting to hear the rest of the story. Jean felt himself clam up. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to say anything,” Armin breathed. “I’m just curious about your story. I know I can get carried away...”

Jean could feel his heart beating too fast in his chest. It made him a little nauseous; he set down his can of peaches and leaned back, looking up at the sky so he didn’t have to watch Armin’s face. 

“What do you want to know?”

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Armin asked. Jean shook his head. “I’ll listen to whatever you want to say.”

“Where am I supposed to start?” he asked gruffly. 

“Wherever you like.” Armin’s voice was so much gentler than his. “The very beginning, if that’s easier.” 

Jean swallowed and thought about all the events leading up to his life so far. It was all so much that it was quickly overwhelming. The beginning, he reminded himself. Start at the beginning. 

“Well,” he started, “I was born on April 7th 1868.”

“You’re twenty-one?” 

“Yup.”

“Me too,” Armin smiled. “I turn twenty-two this fall.”

“Huh. Would have expected you to be a little younger than me.”

“Everyone thinks I’m younger than I am. But no, carry on.”

“Right,” Jean said. “Well, I never knew my mother. Died when I was a baby, so I never missed her, I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Jean said.

It wasn’t, not really. He was sure he’d never even said that out loud before. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach; it sat like a stone and refused to budge no matter how many times Jean tried to wish it away. He warmed his hands by the fire and stared down at the glowing embers, focusing on them as he spoke again. 

“My father raised me. Guess that’s a bit of a strong word. He was there. Sometimes. Mostly he was at the saloon getting piss-drunk and gambling all his money while I did god knows what. Don’t even remember, really.”

“That must have been hard,” Armin said. His voice was soft and sympathetic in a way Jean wasn’t used to. Had he ever been spoken to with gentleness? 

“It was whatever,” Jean shrugged him off. “Anyway. He ran the general store in town and I worked there most days as a kid too. I didn’t go to school much, wasn’t allowed. But I knew how to read and I got good at numbers from working at the store.” 

“Weren’t there other kids your age?” 

“Sure. But I didn’t really… I didn’t get along with them. I guess I was always too angry or whatever. It would just lead to fights. I felt different.”

“Different how?”

“Don’t know,” Jean lied. He knew exactly why he felt so isolated but there was no way he was blurting it out in front of Armin, who was making that very same feeling rise back up to the surface. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I felt different too.”

They looked at each other. Jean recognised the expression in Armin’s eyes, like a second, secret conversation, speaking words they couldn’t say out loud. It was terrifying but almost exhilarating, just like running off from those bandits at the saloon. Did Armin feel the same?  _ You too? _

Jean tore his gaze away from Armin’s face to stare back into the fire. He couldn’t look any longer or his feelings would swallow him whole. Even if he’d wanted to, Jean was sure he’d never be able to get the words out. It was like something was squeezing at him and keeping everything inside where it was supposed to be. But Armin nodded and told him to go on. 

“My whole life just went like that. When I got older I spent most of my time with Autumn, and when I got home I’d usually fight with my dad. That started sometime in my teens, I don’t remember. I was just so damn angry all the time. And I didn’t like it. I could tell my life would be that way forever if I didn’t do anything about it. I wanted out.”

He touched his black eye. It wasn’t sore anymore, and the bruise had mostly faded. Soon the memory of it would be gone too, most likely, along with all the others. 

“So what did you do? Did you plan for a long time?”

“No. I should have, probably. But it just boiled over, all that anger… when Autumn got hurt and my father laughed and said he should put her down, I was so angry I could’ve shot him right then and there.”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“Nah. Just stole all his canned peaches and some cash and left.”

“You could have taken more.” 

“I know.”

“But you didn’t?” 

“I just wanted to get out of there,” Jean mumbled. “I couldn’t stand it.”

“It must have been hard.”

“Sure it was,” Jean said. “But I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” Armin said. “I quite admire you.”

Jean looked at him, dumbfounded for just a second, before he smirked a little, not letting his surprise show. 

“You should,” he teased. They both knew he was joking.

* * *

They talked about other things for a little while, laughing about their escape from the saloon, retelling the story to just themselves even though it still felt surreal. The fire burned low and Jean enjoyed its warmth on his face and the sight of Armin on the other side, still huddled up in his jacket. He was tired, but he didn’t feel much like sleeping. It was fine for him to stay just like this with their lazy conversation. He wasn’t used to it, being seen, being out in the open with his guard down. And he didn’t hate it. Not at all - Jean wanted to savour this night like fine whiskey.

“Hey,” Jean said after a little while of silence. He was lying on his back, hands behind his head, looking up at the moon. 

“Hey,” Armin replied.

“What are you going to do when you leave Overlake?”

There was a pause. Jean could hear crickets. 

“I don’t know,” Armin said eventually. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You seem like the type to have a plan.”

“Everyone says that.”

“Must be true, then.”

“Not really, if I’m honest. Most of the time I’m not sure what I’m doing until I’m forced to make a choice.”

“Is that so bad?”

“It’s stressful,” Armin said. “I always feel unsure. I just want to explore.”

“Want to know what I think?” 

“What’s that?” 

“I think you’d do better to trust in yourself some more,” Jean told him. “And to stop stressing out so much.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“No I didn’t,” Jean said. “Sometimes… what’s hard is the right thing to do. It’ll make it all easier later if you work hard now.”

“And that’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Work hard now and live it easy later?”

“Yup. I can’t imagine just going with the flow.”

“I’m just seeing where the world takes me,” Armin said. 

“And how’s that working out for you so far?”

“Hmm,” Armin hummed. Somehow, Jean could feel his eyes on him. “Pretty well, I think.”

* * *

Jean dozed on and off for a while until he sat up and realised it was the dead of night and the fire was about to go out. Armin was sound asleep on the ground, snoring just a little bit, his long blonde hair splayed out behind him as he lay in Jean’s jacket, curled up on his side. He was so… pretty, Jean thought, and so interesting. He didn’t really want to leave him alone. These were thoughts he’d push down in the morning, when he’d be embarrassed about all that he’d shared. Right now, though, he just felt relieved. 

Not wanting Armin to wake up cold, Jean prepared his tent for him, thinking it was the least he should do after Armin lost his own along with most of his other things. It took a little while in the dark, but he finished and slowly went to Armin, hesitating just a moment before slipping his arms under his body and picking him up. He was even lighter than Jean expected; having him so close made his stomach tight. And then suddenly, Armin stirred and shifted closer to him, soft and close in a way Jean had never experienced in his life, and he almost dropped him out of shock. He was frozen there, holding Armin like that, unable to go and put him in the tent or do anything but stare. 

It took almost a minute before Jean got ahold of himself, but after a series of deep breaths he got his legs to work and went to lay Armin down in his tent, pulling blankets over him before going to lie by the dim and smoking fire, wondering when his heart would stop beating so fast. 


	5. Chapter 5

Armin looked embarrassed the entire next morning. He didn’t look at Jean once, and simply murmured a ‘thank you’ as Jean packed up his tent, weary and aching from spending the night asleep on the hard earth. His back was aching and his head was sore, but he was alive and breathing in the fresh air; it felt good. Jean noticed things like that more often now. The scenery around them was beautiful, and the sun was warm. He wanted to stop taking it all for granted, and remember everything like he had a story to tell.

Autumn seemed to be in a good mood, her spirits lifted presumably because her wound was healing up nicely - thanks to Armin. Jean fed her his last apple and hoped he’d be able to get his hands on some more when they reached the next town over. 

“We need to find the river,” Jean said, packing up his tent while Armin tended to his horse. He kept his back to him, but Jean could see that his ears were pink. Was he really so bothered about taking the tent, Jean wondered? Or was it something else?

“You’re right,” Armin said quietly. “We can follow it to the next town today. I doubt we’ll make it there, but I’d like to stop early this evening.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well… I’d like to build some kind of shelter for myself. And wash my clothes.”

“You’re not all bothered that I put you in my tent last night, are you?” Jean said, as blunt as ever. He didn’t feel the need to dance around the subject, even if it did make his cheeks a little red too. 

“What? No!” Armin spluttered. Jean watched him tense up even more and snorted. “I’m grateful!” 

“Alright, sure,” Jean laughed. “You can build your shelter tonight, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“But I really think you ought to consider just taking the goddamn train. It’s gonna take you at least a week and a half at this rate.” 

“I set out to do this.” Armin’s stubbornness was something else. “I want to show my grandfather that I used everything he taught me to make it to him.”

“Suit yourself, then. But tomorrow, let’s at least ride by the train tracks. Just so we know we’re going the right way.”

“...Okay.”

* * *

The morning chill didn’t last for long; soon, the sun was hot on their backs as they travelled west towards the river. Armin led the way as he seemed to know where he was going and Jean didn’t have the first clue. Everything around here was new to him, all unknown and different, yet in a way still familiar. 

Jean had his jacket back, but he’d almost wanted to tell Armin to keep it. There was something about how big it was, the way it hung off his shoulders… the sight of him like that was really something else. He didn’t carry any guilt for feeling the way that he did. Though it was something he kept hidden, that he couldn’t talk about, Jean had been aware of it his whole life and accepted it as a part of him. In some way, he enjoyed feeling different from the people around him that he disliked so much. He’d never have to worry about getting married or having a family by accident. He was free to live his life however he wanted to, and running away from his town felt like the start of it. 

When they reached the river, Jean was glad to stop and stretch his legs for a while. As the horses drank, Jean took off his boots and socks and sat on the riverbank, letting his feet soak in the running water. Armin came to join him, and they sat for a while with the sun on their faces, looking up at the few clouds that passed overhead. The awkwardness from the night before wasn’t so strong. They smiled at each other briefly and it felt like it was all okay, that both of them understood the other felt a little odd and just accepted it. They ate crackers that Jean split between the two of them, not saying much, and soon, they were on their way again.

* * *

The river was winding and long and more than once they had to cross through it to continue on their path. Jean was hungry, aching, and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a week, but every time he looked back and saw Armin riding behind him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Let’s stop in a little while,” Armin called sometime in the late afternoon. “I want to find a place to set up camp.”

“Let me know when,” Jean replied. “You’re better at this than I am.”

“I’m surprised that you managed to do so well without any planning at all.”

“What d’you mean?”

“When you left your town, it was on a whim, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s not hard to figure out where to set up a tent and build a fire. I can’t build a shelter from scratch like you.”

“I’m not that good at it,” Armin admitted. 

“Bet you’re just saying that.”

“No, it’s true!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They rode for a few hours more, occasionally talking, but the silence between them felt natural when it was present, so Jean didn’t mind the quiet. Armin rode in front, and Jean spent a lot of the time watching him, how he sat with good posture on his horse, how the sun made his long hair look golden. He’d taken the loss of his possessions in stride without so much as batting an eyelid. Jean didn’t understand him, but that feeling… it wasn’t so bad. He just felt excited to know more. 

When the horses began to tire Armin took a left turn through the trees. The river split in two, and Armin led them along the narrower of the paths to a clearing where the forest created a completely secluded and private area by the water. It was a beautiful spot and one Jean was sure he would have never found on his own. 

“Nice find,” he said when they came to a stop, looking around a little before getting off Autumn and leading her to a tree to tie her up. She ate at the grass, and Jean watched her fondly. 

“Thank you,” Armin replied. “I think we should be good here for the night. If all goes to plan we’ll reach the next town by noon tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

“And we’ll say our goodbyes there.”

“Yup. Unless we run into those two bastards again.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Armin chuckled. “I still can’t get over the look on his face when he realised…”

“ _ I  _ can’t believe you found that sorry situation so damn funny.”

“You were laughing too!”

“Yeah,” Jean laughed. “Yeah, I was.”

“Ridiculous,” Armin smiled. Jean’s insides hurt when he saw him, and he made a point to look away and put his hand to his stomach. 

“I’m starving,” he said. “Fancy teaching me how to look for those mushrooms?”

Armin took off his hat and nodded earnestly. “Of course!”

* * *

They came back to their spot some hours later with plenty of mushrooms and cheeks aching from laughter. The more time they spent together, the more Jean realised that he really, really enjoyed Armin’s company, and from the amount that he was laughing Jean was pretty sure Armin felt the same. He wasn’t used to such a thing but he liked it nonetheless. It reminded him of his feelings as they just began to blossom and he wasn’t yet aware that the world didn’t approve.

“You can borrow my clothes while yours dry,” Jean offered as he finished setting up his tent. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. What were you gonna do, stride around naked? You - you’d get cold.”

They didn’t look at each other. 

“I was just going to ask you for a blanket…”

“Take the clothes. They’re clean.”

“Have you got others you can change into, as well?”

“Yeah.”

“...Okay then. Do you want to go first?”

“Sure,” Jean said. “Can you get a fire going?”

“Of course. I’ll make a washing line too.”

“Fancy.”

“Shut up,” Armin chuckled. Jean looked over him, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Watch your tongue.”

“You keep saying that, yet I don’t see you making me stop.”

“You want me to make you stop?”

“No!” Armin laughed. “Go and wash already.”

“Fine, fine.”

“I’ll come in once the fire’s going.”

The sun was still warm and hanging above the horizon, so Jean wasn’t too worried about getting into the river. It would be cold, but refreshingly so. His clothes needed a wash, too. While Armin made a makeshift washing line, tying some string between two trees, Jean took off his hat and then his boots, the smile fading from his face, the warm feeling in his chest turning into worry. He bit his lip as he thought about what was coming. For some reason, he hadn’t expected Armin to come in whether he was done or not, but perhaps he should have realised that he probably didn’t think of the whole experience the same way. 

Maybe for two other men bathing in the river would be as natural as anything, but Jean was different. His cheeks were pink just from the thought of Armin taking off what he wore and bathing in the river while he washed his clothes. Would he be shy? Would he  _ notice?  _ Jean didn’t want to feel forced to talk about something he wasn’t ready to discuss yet. But what choice did he have, if it was obvious? Especially to someone as observant as Armin himself. 

Maybe he could pass it off as the sun burning his face. After all, Armin’s cheeks always seemed a little flushed as well. It would be fine, then. He would go in now and get it over and done with, and hopefully, be out before Armin was done with the fire.

He stripped down into his underwear and didn’t cast a single look back towards the trees. Jean was tall and muscular and had no qualms about his body. He liked the way he looked, but even still, the thought of being seen by Armin made him nervous. Perhaps because he was more afraid of letting his mind run away with the possibility that Armin might like what he saw, too. 

Wincing from the cold, Jean got into the river and bent down to submerge his clothes. He stared at the fabric under the clear water, watching as fish swam by, focusing on that instead of whatever Armin was doing from far away. He took his bar of soap and cleaned himself with it before scrubbing his clothes, washing away the dirt from sleeping on the ground the night before. He could hear Armin snapping twigs in half and knew it wouldn’t be long before he was getting in too. What would be worse, seeing Armin in his clothes, or seeing him in nothing at all? 

Jean got his answer when he turned around and saw Armin walking towards the river with his clothes bundled up in his arms, shivering. Their eyes met and Jean stopped and there was something so understood between them that Jean had no way to make sense of it. He didn’t know why he was so sure, or what he was even sure  _ of,  _ but there was certainty nonetheless. Armin looked at him and Jean looked too. Slowly, Armin’s eyes moved downwards, looking at his body, and Jean took it as permission to do the same, letting himself glance at Armin’s figure and wondering why on earth he liked it so much. 

Armin’s slight frame, soft features, and long hair were all quite girly - but never before had Jean felt the same kind of pull he did now towards a woman. The person in front of him was undoubtedly a little feminine but still very much a man, and Jean couldn’t tear his eyes away. Armin had on only his underwear, so Jean could see most of his body, the slight definition of muscles on his torso and arms that he would never have guessed to be there. His skin looked soft and his expression matched; when they looked at each other again, both Jean and Armin smiled almost sheepishly. 

“It’s not very warm,” Jean warned, knowing Armin felt the cold easily. He was surprised that his voice came out even because he felt like a wreck of nerves on the inside. Breaking the silence was a relief but it didn’t do much at all to shift this atmosphere Jean had never felt before. Why -  _ how  _ \- was Armin so gorgeous? Why was Armin looking at him like he felt the same? 

Didn’t Armin know that he was driving him crazy?

“Ah!” Armin laughed, finally looking away from Jean as he dipped his foot into the river and pulled back almost instantly, wincing. 

“I told you,” Jean said. He tore his eyes away and focused solely on his clothes, continuing to scrub them. 

“But even still! I never get used to this,” Armin shivered. Jean snuck a glance at him and laughed when he saw Armin wading into the water. 

“Come on now,” Jean said, losing all his good judgement as he extended one hand towards Armin. “I’ll help you.”

“No, you’re going to pull me in.”

“I won’t, I swear it.”

“Swear on your horse.”

“I swear on Autumn,” Jean laughed. What was he  _ doing? _

Armin narrowed his eyes, ever skeptical, but he reached over and took Jean’s hand nonetheless. Jean felt the way their fingers locked together, not the way he’d intended to take his hand, but better than he could have imagined. He wasn’t making this up; this was special. This was different. 

A giddy sensation he barely remembered from his childhood overcame Jean. He felt nostalgia for things that never happened; he felt the freedom to do whatever he wanted within this small circle of trees; he felt like if Armin just slightly nodded Jean would have pulled him forwards and kissed him. But he just squeezed his hand and smiled and watched as Armin looked away like he felt guilty. 

“That’s not so bad, is it?” Jean murmured. 

“No, it’s not,” Armin whispered. There was a long pause. “Can you pass me the soap?”

Jean let go of his hand, then, and wondered what Armin was thinking. 

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

Jean got out not long after that, leaving Armin to finish up while he dried off, got dressed and hung up his wet clothes on the makeshift washing line. They’d smell like campfire smoke by morning but it was better than dirt from days of wear. Jean kept casting looks at Armin back in the water, wondering what he was thinking, if he could read Jean’s mind like it was one of his books. 

Behind the forest, the sun started to set. It cast its light through the trees, giving the small clearing an orange hue; Jean liked this time before nightfall when the world felt different, but it was doing nothing to help the atmosphere and the strange tension between him and Armin. Jean wished he didn’t have to mind.

In his tent, Jean pushed his wet hair out of his face and gathered his feelings. He didn’t have to squash them down but surely it was for the best. Swallowing, Jean focused his energy on pushing thoughts of Armin and his body from his mind, gathered clothes for him, then tried his very best to not think about how Armin was going to look in a shirt and pants that were really much too big. He put the clothes out by the fire so they were warm when Armin put them on, then stayed in his tent, giving him his privacy. He lay there on his bedroll, staring at cans of peaches and wondering what it would be like if he had pulled Armin’s body close to his in the water. 

Armin didn’t stay in the river long. Jean heard him get out and dry off, and waited until he was called for before leaving his tent. 

“Thank you so much,” Armin beamed at him. That wasn’t the face of a man who had lost almost everything he had, but then again, nothing Armin did was ordinary. He had rolled up the pants and the sleeves, but they still looked huge on him and it made Jean’s stomach squeeze, a tight feeling that he was beginning to get used to. 

“Welcome,” Jean said back, making a point to look away. “We're cooking these mushrooms, then?” 

“Unless you want to eat them raw. You can, if you like.” 

“I’ll cook ‘em.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Armin smiled up at him and Jean felt like his head stopped working. Suddenly, a sadness struck him, knowing that it was likely they’d be saying their goodbyes tomorrow. He really, really didn’t want to leave this man behind. Was there some sort of way he could make them have to stay together? 

As he skewered his mushrooms and held them over the open flames, he hummed. 

“What’s wrong?” Armin asked. 

“Nothing,” Jean replied gruffly. He made a point not to look at him. 

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I won’t then.”

“So there is something wrong?” 

This was exactly what Jean was going to miss. 

“Shut your mouth.”

Armin giggled, but then he paused, the sound of his laughter fading away. 

“I think it’s going to rain.” 

Jean looked up and saw only blue behind the trees, fading to orange as the sun set.

“What are you talking about? The sky’s clear,” he said.

“I can feel it. I think it might rain.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jean chuckled, eating a mushroom right off the stick. He skewered another and rolled his eyes. “We’re lucky the sky’s clear tonight.”

“I don’t think it will be for much longer.”

“Then you’d better get to building a pretty good shelter, then. You need a hand?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

* * *

Building any kind of shelter was much harder than Jean had anticipated. Armin knew the theory of it, and it seemed he had done it back when he had his grandfather’s guidance, but putting that in practice was something else entirely. They struggled with almost every step. While Armin got pouty and a little frustrated, Jean found the whole situation quite funny; each time Armin frowned or puffed out his cheeks he became more and more endearing. 

It was dark by the time they finished. What they ended up with was a small, leaf-covered shelter made out of sticks tied together with string, propped up against a large tree. Lopsided and brittle, it would have been far too small for Jean, but it suited Armin’s slighter frame just fine. It was close enough to the fire to keep Armin warm, yet far back enough to not need to worry about catching alight. 

“Don’t roll around in the night,” Jean warned, leaning against a tree as he looked down at Armin and saw him peeking up from underneath the blanket Jean let him borrow. “You’ll knock it all over.”

“I won’t,” Armin frowned. 

“Are you still moody about not being able to get it right?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Maybe…”

“I knew it,” Jean laughed. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Better than I could do on my own.”

“You don’t need to do better. You have a tent.”

“That I do. And so will you, soon enough.”

“I hope so.” 

“You will and you’ll be fine. Now get some rest or we won’t make it to the next town tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Armin said, finally cracking a smile. Jean smiled back, that feeling creeping up in his chest again, and he turned around. 

“Night, Armin.”

“Goodnight, Jean.”

As Jean turned on his heel to head to his tent and rest for the night, he bit his lip, his mind too consumed with thoughts of Armin to notice the darkening clouds above. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Pull away,” Jean murmured, leaning in. 
> 
> “No,” Armin whispered.

The sound of the rain was loud and persistent enough to wake Jean from his restless sleep some hours later during the dead of night. It poured down, so thick and heavy that each drop sounded like a pebble dropping on his tent. He didn’t open his eyes at first, sensing that it was still dark and not wanting to move at all, impatient to slip back under and rest again; but then Jean remembered Armin’s prediction about the weather and his meagre shelter and realised that he must be out there in the rain getting soaked through. Rubbing his eyes, Jean sat up and groggily pulled on his boots in the darkness, not bothering with anything else. He had to check on the horses and get Armin into his tent where it was dry. 

“Armin!” he yelled, his voice slurred a little from having just woken up. He held out his hands, trying to feel for what was in front of him because he couldn’t see a thing. There were no panicked noises coming from Autumn or Cerise; Jean knew his horse was frightened by thunderstorms, but thankfully this seemed to be just rain. 

“Jean?” came Armin’s voice just a moment later from Jean’s right. Jean could barely see in the pitch-darkness, but he found his way to Armin and knelt down. The shelter was intact but doing nothing to stop the rain from soaking Armin through to the bone where he lay, trying in vain to sleep. He was shivering; Jean could see that, and hear the way his teeth chattered together. 

“What are you doing?” he called over the sound of the rain. “Come on!” 

“What?”

“Into my tent,” Jean insisted. “We’re sharing.”

Without a second thought, Jean grabbed Armin’s hand and dragged him up, the shelter falling apart behind him. Armin let out a yell of protest but Jean ignored him. There was no way he was letting Armin freeze out there, not when they could both fit in the tent. He wished that he’d just insisted on it before, but at least he’d woken up. 

“But-”

“If it bothers you, I’ll sleep outside,” Jean snapped, not wanting to let Armin argue about it.

“It doesn’t bother me-” 

“Then come on!”

They just managed to fit inside. No room was left between them as they both took off their shoes, getting mud on the tent that Jean would deal with in the morning. Armin was still shivering, his shirt damp from the rain, and he held his arms across his chest to try and keep himself warm. Jean lit his oil lamp and hung it from the top of the tent. 

“You need to get your clothes off or you’re going to get sick,” he said, making a point to look away. 

“Jean, I...”

“I’m not pulling anything funny, I’m trying to help,” Jean insisted, his voice cracking a little. He wasn’t tired at all anymore. “You can have the shirt I’m wearing now.”

“Don’t look,” Armin murmured, conceding, sounding shy like Jean hadn’t seen him in just his underwear the evening before. Though, he supposed, they hadn’t been pressed against each other like this back then. 

“I’m not,” Jean promised. He unbuttoned his shirt and kept his eyes fixed on anything but Armin. There was a lump sitting in his throat that wouldn’t go away, and the shameful urge to turn around to look, though he didn’t give into it. When Armin was done Jean passed him his shirt and let him put it on before he gathered the blankets. Armin was so close it hurt. Their legs were touching, as were their shoulders and hips. There was no room to create space between them. Jean swallowed again and again but he couldn’t force his feelings away. Was the sky cursing or blessing him by unleashing this downpour? 

“You’re warm,” Armin whispered, his teeth chattering. 

“Yeah, I don’t feel the cold all that much.”

“I… I’m so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be,” Jean replied gruffly. He didn’t look at Armin. He kept his eyes on his bag and hummed. “You want to share a can of peaches? Or are you going to sleep?”

“...I’ll take some peaches.”

“Alright.” Jean sat up as much as he could, fumbling in the low light for a can, and managed to get it open. “Watch your fingers on the edge.”

Armin sat up a little too. Because Jean’s shirt was so big on him, it slipped down one shoulder slightly, exposing his collarbone. Jean looked for just a second before he forced himself to avert his gaze, already far too worked up by just being near him to risk staring at him for any length of time. 

The rain kept going on and on as they quietly ate, taking it in turns getting a slice of peach from the can. There was something so intimate about their silence, something that sent chills up Jean’s spine, making him shiver but not from the cold. Here, sharing peaches with Armin, he felt more open and more himself than he ever had in his life. It felt like he could say anything. He almost did. 

But Jean bit his tongue, seeing the way Armin’s brows furrowed and his bottom lip stuck out, eyes focused on the blanket like he was trying to solve something impossible. He looked sad, too, in a way. 

“You can drink the juice,” he offered. 

“No, it’s okay,” Armin replied. His voice was barely a whisper. “You have it.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” 

“Jean, I-” Armin started, but Jean interrupted, wanting to stop him before he said something he didn’t want to hear.

“This weird for you or something?”

“Weird? I - I’m making it weird. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I swear it.”

“Oh. Okay, then,” Armin murmured. He bit his lip and kept staring down. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“It’s - it’s nothing.”

“What a load of crap. Tell me.”

Armin took in a shaky breath; Jean handed him the can with all the juice left inside and watched a small smile pass over his face. He drank before he spoke again. 

“I’m just frustrated,” he whispered. 

“By the rain?” 

“Not the rain.”

“What then?”

“Just - all this,” Armin sighed. “I was supposed to be able to have this adventure, but I feel like I’ve been relying on you too much. It’s embarrassing.”

“What d’you mean?”

“From the moment we met you were helping me out, and I… I don’t know. I wanted to have the stories to prove to my grandfather that I could put everything he taught me into practice.” 

“The way I see it, you’ve already got them,” Jean said, lying back down, propping himself up on one elbow so he could watch Armin’s face as he spoke. 

“How?”

“Well, first off, haven’t you been living all alone in that cabin? That’s impressive enough, for a small guy like you.”

“Thanks…?”

“You helped heal my horse,” Jean went on. “You did a damn good job talking those bandits down, and then we ran from them - while being shot at - and made it out just fine.”

Armin looked like he was about to burst into tears. In all of his years, Jean had never met someone so confident in expressing their emotions. He thought it was a kind of strength he’d never have. 

“Thank you,” Armin said quietly. He was staring downwards at the blankets; Jean watched his face, wondering how he’d ever explain away the feeling in his chest that he was growing more and more sure of. 

“That’s an exciting enough story as it is,” Jean told him. “If you need to get the train at the next town, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m sure he’d be glad for the time with you.”

“It’s just… I had so much help from you.” 

“So? I had a whole lot of help from you too.”

The oil lamp was flickering, swaying slightly, making shadows move across Armin’s face where the low orange light couldn’t reach. His hair looked golden from its glow and Jean wanted to reach out and touch. Instead he balled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms, trying desperately to restrain himself. 

“What if something happens after we part ways?” Armin whispered. “Tomorrow seems so… so soon.”

“Let me stay with you, then,” Jean blurted out, the words leaving him before he had a chance to think about their connotations. 

“H-huh?”

“If you want me to,” Jean said, quick to sound indifferent, trying not to give away that it was very much what he wanted. 

“I… don’t need your pity,” Armin whispered. 

“I never said I pitied you.”

“Most people do.”

“And I’m like most people?” 

“I… no, I guess not.”

“Most people are idiots,” Jean stated. 

“Why do you think I live alone?”

Jean chuckled and Armin looked at him, their eyes meeting. Armin wasn’t like most people, either. Jean knew from the moment he saw him that he’d never known anyone like Armin. 

“Your eyes crinkle up when you smile like that,” Armin whispered. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

Jean meant to ask that with his usual sarcastic tone, but the words came out almost  _ shy _ , or insecure, giving away how badly Jean wanted to know what Armin thought of him. His heart was hurting, beating too fast. Jean was dizzy, and more nervous than he’d ever been in his life. Normally he could hide his nerves behind a smirk but he couldn’t deny them now. Right in front of him, Armin stared back, his expression beautiful yet unreadable. 

The rain kept pouring down. 

“I’m trying to say… that I’ll be sad to say goodbye to you tomorrow.”

“Then don’t.”

“Jean…”

“Let me come with you.”

“But what about your plans?”

“I’ll come with you to Overlake,” Jean told him, deciding on his plans as his words left him. “I’ll come with you and find work there. Let me be a part of your story until then.”

Armin let out a shaky breath, breaking eye contact. 

“You’re going to confuse me,” he said softly. Jean watched as a tear fell down his cheek. He didn’t say a word - he just reached over to brush it away with his thumb, and didn’t take his hand back. Armin stared up at him again. Jean could see the tears gathering in his eyes, the faint summer freckles on his pale skin - the look on his face that made Jean feel more sure than ever. 

“Pull away,” Jean murmured, leaning in. 

“No,” Armin whispered. The way he looked at him was all that Jean needed to close the short gap between them and press his lips to Armin’s. It was a kiss so soft and so fast that Jean barely had time to process it, but he could feel his lips tingling just from the brief sensation - the gentle noise of shock Armin let out told Jean he’d felt it too. His face was burning and his heart was pounding even harder in his chest and the moment they pulled apart felt like a lifetime until it was over and he was kissing Armin again, but harder this time, holding his face in his hands. 

Jean couldn’t hear the rain or feel anything but Armin kissing him back - it was surreal and it was wonderful and it was terrifying but he didn’t  _ care.  _ It felt like he had been running towards this instead of away from his home. Jean remembered how Armin said it was human nature to always want more, and he felt like he finally understood what he meant now that they were embracing and Jean was desperate to never let this feeling end. 

Armin’s kiss was sweet and it tasted like peaches. 

“Holy shit,” Jean gasped when they broke apart, both out of breath and shaking. “I-“

“I’m so relieved,” Armin panted. He held out his hand and watched how his fingers trembled wildly. “I hoped - but I wasn’t sure if you were-“

“Again,” Jean murmured. All he wanted was to feel it again, that  _ certainty _ . It was like having the answers to every question he’d ever asked, like a thousand doors opening for him all at once, like finding something he’d been missing his whole life. 

Armin didn’t deny him. This time, he was the one leaning in, holding Jean’s face in his cold hands before kissing him, warm lips pressing together. He didn’t know how much time passed there like that, but each second of it was surreal and he wanted to savour as much as he could. He didn’t care to talk about it or question it or think of anything but how affirming it felt to know that what made him different from others could result in such an incredible feeling. He pulled Armin closer, tangling his fingers in his hair, barely taking a second to breathe between kisses. 

“Let me come with you,” Jean whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against Armin’s with each word. He shifted so their foreheads and noses were still touching; Jean couldn’t bear to move any further away. 

“To Overlake?” Armin asked. His voice was so quiet that Jean could barely hear him over the sound of the rain and his own heart beating. 

“Yeah. I don’t want to say goodbye tomorrow.”

“Mm,” Armin hummed. “I wanted to ask, but…”

Jean laughed, more out of relief than anything, and pressed another lingering kiss to Armin’s lips before looking at him. Armin’s eyes were so pretty, he thought. Especially when they were shining with happiness and not tears. Jean never wanted to see him make a sad face like that again. 

Armin held him. Jean rested his chin on his shoulder and closed his eyes and took in the smell of peaches and the rain. He’d never been held before, he realised. All his life Jean had only felt touch through violence and this soft embrace was enough to make him feel like he was going to cry. He swallowed, forcing himself to push that feeling down, but Armin, as if he could read Jean’s mind, held him tighter and told him gently with his touch that it was okay. 

“You can come with me,” Armin whispered. Jean squeezed him tighter and breathed in slowly, pressing his face into Armin’s shoulder. In the morning he’d be embarrassed but right now he just wanted to be held. 

“I will,” he promised quietly, his voice muffled. 

“Thank you.” Armin sounded like he was holding back tears as well. “I - I hoped this would happen, but I never expected…”

“I know what you mean.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Mm… you don’t have to ask.”

* * *

Hours passed, or maybe just minutes - Jean couldn’t tell. Armin was close to him and because of that everything felt timeless. They had broken apart, lips sore from kissing, and were laying curled up under the blankets, listening to the outdoors and their own synchronised breathing. The weather had let up a little. Jean could still hear rainfall hitting the tent, but its steady drumming became softer and slower as the night ticked by, much like his own heartbeat. The excitement and adrenaline Jean felt wasn’t so strong, though the warmth in his chest remained; he was left feeling as peaceful and tranquil as the clearing when they first arrived. 

“You must be tired,” Armin murmured. 

“Just a little,” Jean replied. He was just looking at Armin, and took a second to brush his hair behind his ear. “Are you?”

“Mmhm.”

“Maybe we should sleep.”

“We definitely should, but…”

“I know, I want to keep kissing too,” Jean chuckled. “But we can in the morning. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“I’m fine,” Armin pouted. 

“You were soaked through and shaking like a leaf. You need to rest.”

“You’re worried…” Armin smiled up at him. Just his cute expression made Jean’s stomach flip. He was right, too. Of course Jean was worried. From the moment they met Jean had worried - enough to put himself at the end of a bandits gun for him when they were still nothing more than strangers. And what were they now, he wondered?

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“Make me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jean did the only appropriate thing and kissed Armin before he could say another word, holding his face in his hands, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks. His skin was so soft. Armin smiled against Jean’s lips and pulled back a little, murmuring softly. 

“I knew you’d do that.”

“Fine, no more then.”

“So mean…” 

“Sleep,” Jean laughed. “I’m not about to let you get sick.”

“Can I… can I lie on your chest?”

Armin’s voice was so soft and so sweet that Jean thought he would have said yes no matter what he asked for. He nodded, and Armin curled up at his side, resting his head on Jean’s chest in the perfect position to let him play with his hair a little, feeling it between his fingers. 

“This alright?” he asked. 

“Mmhm,” Armin whispered. “Your heart is beating really fast.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Jean muttered back, sarcastic as ever. Armin just laughed sweetly and Jean wondered if he’d ever heard something so wonderful. 

“Mine is too.”

“Can I feel it?” 

“Of course,” Armin said, and he took Jean’s hand, placing it on his chest. Jean felt the hard and steady beating of his heart behind his ribs and it made him almost giddy in a childish way to know he’d caused such a reaction from him. 

They both yawned at the same time and laughed. 

“Get some rest, alright?” Jean told him softly, barely to keep his eyes open now that they were settled. Armin hummed back in return, and before long the sound of the rain slowed their hearts and breathing and they drifted off to sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

Jean woke up for the first time in the orange haze of early morning, in that time where the line between dreams and reality was too blurred to make out. He could hear the wind in the trees and birdsong and the steady breathing of two people in time. Aching, he was too tired to move or even open his eyes; Jean’s body was hurting all over, but there was the weight of another person on his chest and in his drowsiness he could do nothing but hold them closer. No thoughts of who it was or how it happened even crossed his mind. It was as sure and normal to him as the sun that was rising overhead. It took all his sleepy effort to press a kiss to his lover’s head. He didn’t know or question why he did it - there was no need to when the action itself felt as natural as breathing.

Laying there for a little while, Jean made no effort to move. With each exhale, sleep began to take him again; he did nothing to fight it, and let himself drift off.

* * *

Jean had no memory of that moment when he woke up for the second time. All he was aware of was the crushing feeling in his head, an ache there that hurt awfully, and how it felt as if the blanket draped over him weighed a thousand pounds. It was so cold that he was shivering, but he still felt clammy. It was all Jean could do for a few moments to take in the pain, still not understanding where he was until -

Last night. 

Jean choked and sat up so fast that he was nearly sick. All the memories came rushing back at once - the rain, his uncertain words, the  _ kiss -  _ and now realising he was alone in his tent made Jean panic like he had when Autumn got hurt at the stables. Was it a dream? Was it real? He looked around so fast it made his head spin, then realised he was shirtless and it had all been real. Opening his mouth, he tried to call for Armin, but nothing happened - this throat felt scratchy and hurt awfully. Again he tried to make a noise but only a weak croak came out, so Jean mustered all his strength to crawl out of the tent. 

Instantly the brightness of the sun made him recoil, the blinding light hurting his eyes and his head. Jean had never been so groggy in his life - he felt awful. 

“You’re awake!” came Armin’s voice, bright and happy as the sun shining above them. When Jean could finally open his eyes fully he saw Armin standing there and despite everything it made his heart race like it had the night before. Their clothes were drying behind Armin on the washing line he must have fixed after the previous night’s storm. Armin was smiling, but when he got a closer look at Jean his face fell. “Jean?”

“Hey,” Jean croaked. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jean lied, closing his eyes again. This was the last thing that he’d wanted. He wouldn’t admit to himself that he was sick. 

“You’re not fine,” Armin insisted, rushing up to him. Even through the haze of his surroundings, Jean felt the atmosphere between them, tense and tight like it always was. 

“Shit,” Jean groaned. Trying to shake his head was a bad idea - it was like he could feel his brain rattling around inside his skull. 

“Here - I - quickly, drink something,” Armin insisted, fumbling with his canteen, unscrewing the cap with shaking hands before raising it to Jean’s lips. “Please.”

Jean did as Armin told him, and it did feel like a relief to drink, even if it didn’t take away the pain in his head or the ache in his limbs or the way his body shivered like he was in the middle of a blizzard despite the warmth of the summer morning. Even with all of that, Jean couldn’t stop staring at Armin, remembering the feeling of his kiss the night before. He wanted to bring it up, but he didn’t know how - it was hard to think when Armin was close anyway, let alone when he felt like this. 

“I’m fine,” he tried to insist again. Armin frowned and put the back his hand against Jean’s forehead, and shook his head when he felt his temperature. 

“You’re not fine,” he murmured. 

“Ar-”

“You’re not fine at _ all _ ,” Armin repeated, his voice stern enough to send a chill down Jean’s spine. “Go and lie back down, okay?”

“What about all this?”

“We’ll figure it out later, when our clothes are dry. Let me take care of it.”

Jean didn’t have the will to fight, and he let Armin guide him back into the tent. He settled down on his bedroll, uncomfortable and in pain. Armin left for just a moment to soak a cloth in cold river water. When he came back he placed it on Jean’s forehead; it soothed him just a little and stopped the light from reaching his eyes and making his head hurt worse. Jean sensed him there beside him for a moment, and then he felt Armin take his hand, stroking his thumbs over his palm. 

“About last night-” Jean started. Armin shushed him, but he continued. “Do you regret it?”

“No, of course I don’t,” Armin said. “I meant everything I said.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” Armin was smiling; Jean could hear it in his voice. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

“No.”

“Good. Then we… can talk about it all when you’re feeling better. Right now, you need to rest.”

“I should be making myself useful-”

“Resting is the most useful thing you can do right now,” Armin said firmly. “Okay?”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you,” Armin breathed. Jean felt him lean in, and his body felt like bliss for just one moment when Armin pressed his lips to his cheek. It felt just as good as he remembered. 

“Mmhm,” Jean hummed in return. Armin stayed by his side, playing with his hair until Jean once again drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

From then on everything passed in a daze. Jean slept fitfully, waking up frequently enough that it felt like he hadn’t gotten any rest at all. The bright sun hurt his head, as did even the gentle sounds of birds and running water. Armin came in every so often, to change the cloth on his head or make him drink water, and Jean could sense that he was worried. It was agony to lie there like that, waiting to drift off to a meagre amount of sleep over and over, and when the sun was directly overhead he couldn’t stand it any longer. 

Crawling out of his tent, Jean wiped the sweat from his brow with the cloth Armin placed on him, and forced himself to stand up. He’d never gotten any sympathy while he was sick before and he didn’t need it, either. There was no point in stopping no matter how bad he felt, and besides, it was a little better - he could open his eyes, at least. 

“Armin,” he said gruffly, getting the man’s attention. 

“Jean!” Armin replied, his face a picture of worry as he rushed over. He was dressed in his own clothes again, finally clean and dry. Jean could see his own clothes neatly folded up, too. “What are you doing, you should be resting-“

“No, I’m done resting,” Jean insisted. Talking hurt his head but he ignored it. “I’m sick to death of it, I want to get going already.”

“But-“

“I can’t sleep in there. We’re going to end up having to take the train if we don’t get moving - that or you’ll have to leave me behind.”

Armin’s worried pout made Jean curse his own body for getting sick when he could have been kissing him. He kept having to remember that it  _ was _ real, that their embrace really happened and wasn’t some fever-induced delusion. 

“Do you think you can ride?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine,” Jean said, but he wasn’t really sure. He felt dizzy and sick but he could see no advantage in staying here. 

“...If you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Armin sighed like he knew Jean was lying, but he gave in nonetheless.

“Okay,” he said, resigned. “Let me help you with your shirt.”

“I don’t need-“

“Let me  _ help.” _

Armin hurried over to get Jean’s now-clean shirt from the pile of washing and shook it out before handing it to him. Jean put it on, trying his best to hide how much he was still shaking, and took a step closer to Armin so he could do up the buttons. He was close. Close enough that Jean could once again see those faint freckles brought on by summer sunshine and the pink that tinted his cheeks beneath them. Close enough that Jean could smell his own soap on him, close enough that the feeling between them was undeniable. Armin’s hands were shaking too as he reached up and did up the first of Jean’s buttons, his fingers brushing over his chest as he slowly helped him dress. Dizziness almost overtook Jean entirely as he watched him, wondering how it was possible that such a simple act could cause such strong feelings within him. Armin was feeling it too; Jean could tell from the way he held his breath and how he held himself.

“There,” Armin whispered, fiddling with Jean’s collar when he was done. “You look… very handsome.”

“I’m pretty sure I look like shit,” Jean chuckled, that action alone hurting his head. “But… thanks.”

“You could never look bad,” Armin laughed. “Even while you’re sick. You’re just one of those people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying you always look good,” Armin explained. “When I was younger… I always thought I was wildly jealous of people like you… but turns out it was a different feeling entirely.”

With that Armin stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to Jean’s lips, rendering him speechless and even dizzier than before. He brought his hand to his lips as Armin hurried off, and thought maybe he’d have to return the favour one hundred times over when he was feeling better entirely.

* * *

“And you’re absolutely  _ sure,”  _ Armin stated an hour later, when they were packed and ready to go, “that you can do this?”

“How many times do I need to tell you?” Jean asked. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He wasn’t, but he wanted to try anyway. Armin wouldn’t let him if he showed any doubt, so he lied and insisted time after time that he was feeling a lot better. Autumn seemed relieved when Jean came over to her. He could tell she was restless and ready to get on the road - he was glad to see it. At least one of them was feeling okay. 

“We’ve been through the wars, haven’t we, girl?” Jean chuckled, ignoring the way the edges of his vision blurred as he brushed her. He felt a little just from being close to his companion. Before Armin, she was the only one he had. Getting up onto her made Jean lightheaded, and he had to take a moment to centre himself before he even felt able to ride. He knew the ride to the next town wasn’t that long, but Jean wasn’t sure he’d make it there without being sick. 

“Follow my lead, alright?” Armin said. He was the most unsure-sounding leader Jean had ever heard, but he did as he said regardless, knowing that it was for the best. 

They left the clearing as they found it and headed back towards the dirt road. Each step made Jean feel even more nauseous, but he ignored it the best that he could and pushed onwards, following Armin and letting the brim of his hat shade his eyes from the harsh sun that made his head throb. He drank slowly from his canteen, held tight to the reins, and kept his feet firmly in the stirrups, but with every passing mile, Jean’s grip loosened. 

The mountains, the sky, the trees, the river - the lines between them began to blur. Jean wasn’t sure what was what. It frustrated him. He wanted to talk with Armin, to get their feelings out into the open and talk more, kiss him more, spend the night at his side. He wanted to stare at his face and make the most of what time they had before they parted ways, but right now he was seeing double and it was hard to think straight at all. Armin kept looking back to check on him. 

Jean wished he could make out the details of his face - that was the last thing he thought before going limp and falling off Autumn, landing in the dirt, out cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched a j drama so please excuse the very cliche getting sick scene. i couldn't resist


	8. Chapter 8

The next time Jean woke up he was in a bed. He sat bolt upright, looking around, his heart racing as he realised he felt the comfort of a mattress beneath him. For just a second Jean thought he was back in his town, in his small room in his small bed, confined again to his big dreams, but he realised soon that he was in a different place entirely. It was a rickety small room, with wooden walls and a wooden floor and wooden furniture. His things sat in the corner, but he was all alone, and through the gap in the curtains he could see it was dark outside. He could hear conversations and music coming from the floor beneath him, so it must have been a saloon. 

Rubbing his eyes, Jean tried to figure out what was going on, but his last memories were hazy. The only thing he remembered was waking up briefly, Armin buttoning up his shirt… were they riding? Armin. Where was he? Jean knew they had kissed, he knew that he had held him close that night… but the details weren’t there. 

His head hurt, but it was only a dull ache. Jean wasted no time in getting up, a little dizzy, but otherwise fine. He dressed and put his hat on, then left his room to go and relieve himself. The saloon was familiar, like they all were, but he didn’t recognise anything specific so he knew he’d never been here before. Jean didn’t see a single person until he walked back into the hall and bumped into Armin. 

“Jean!” Armin exclaimed, looking like he’d seen a ghost, but after just a second he flung his arms around him and held him so tightly that Jean could do nothing but stand there and feel the full force of his embrace. It was such a relief to stand there, to know Armin was still there and was close to him, and that he wasn’t all alone again.

“Armin,” he breathed. The familiarity of his touch was the most comforting thing he’d ever experienced. It was like nothing else, the feeling of being there in his arms. It was almost like he found what he’d been looking for. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Armin asked, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes were shining with tears as he pulled back and looked up at him. “I just left for a moment to eat, if I’d known you were going to wake up, I-“

“Where are we?” Jean interrupted, confused. “How did we even get here?”

Armin bit his lip like he was worried and looked both ways down the hall before slipping his hand into Jean’s. 

“Come back into the room,” he murmured, leading Jean back inside. He made him sit down on the bed, took off his hat, then checked his temperature. “Tell me how you’re feeling first.”

“My head hurts,” Jean said gruffly. “Other than that I’m fine.” 

“Hmm,” Armin hummed. “You don’t feel too warm… does your throat hurt?”

“Not that bad.” 

“And when you stood up, did you feel dizzy?”

“No - Armin, can you just answer my questions? Where are we? Is Autumn okay?” 

“Sorry,” Armin said quickly, and he sat down beside Jean, so close that their thighs touched. He rested his head on his shoulder and let out a long sigh. “We’re at the next town over. Autumn’s okay! Her leg is almost fully better. I’ve been changing her bandages.”

“You - how long have we been here?”

“It’s… been two days.”

_ “What?!”  _ Jean exclaimed. “What do you mean, two days? Explain!”

“Calm down!” Armin told him, taking his hands and squeezing. “It’s - it’s nothing to worry about, I-“

“Armin, we’re set back two days, it’s a big deal. Your grandfather-“

“Let me speak,” Armin said quietly, and Jean relented. “You got sick… you fell off your horse on the way here. I couldn’t wake you, so I put you on the back of my horse and rode here. The last two days I… I just stayed by your side and cared for you… I was so worried-“

Armin’s voice cracked and Jean felt a rush of gratitude for him, along with a stronger feeling that sat deep in his chest, warming him from the inside out. 

“I’m okay,” he promised, pulling Armin in for a hug again. “I promise, I feel much better.”

“You swear it?”

“On Autumn’s life.”

“...Okay,” Armin sniffed. Tears fell down his cheeks and he moved closer to Jean, wrapping his arms around him. 

“What are you crying for? You’re acting like you wish I was sick,” Jean said softly. 

“I’m crying because I was scared! You frightened me, you know!” 

“That bad?”

“Of course! I know… I know you probably think it’s silly, but I - I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and… I felt like I was going crazy hoping you’d be okay.”

Jean almost felt like he was going to start crying himself. 

“You nursed me back to health, didn’t you?” He asked, slowly tilting Armin’s face up towards his, looking him in the eyes. “You’re a pretty good healer… I must have known I was in safe hands.”

“You were asleep,” Armin laughed weakly, still crying a little. 

“Then my body sensed it,” Jean smiled back, quickly leaning over to kiss Armin on the tip of his nose, giddy just from that. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“You don’t - you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Sure I do.”

“I was worried,” Armin said again. “You scared me so much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You were so worried about me getting sick,” Armin chuckled. “But you ended up being the one who got ill.”

“Rather me than you. Only because I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to healing though.”

“Would you look after me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I would. Sure I might not be of much help, but…”

“You’re so sweet,” Armin smiled. “I would have never known just from looking at you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jean argued. “You shut your damn mouth.”

“No,” Armin laughed. “Absolutely not. I’m right.”

“If I was ever sweet it was only to you.”

Armin turned bright red then, and Jean felt his stomach flip when he saw the cute, embarrassed expression on his face. He watched him fiddle with his hands and wondered what on earth he was going to do when they parted ways. He didn’t want that day to come even though it was fast approaching with each step they made towards Overlake. 

“Listen, Armin,” Jean said. “Your grandfather… I held you up an awful lot, and this is the last place we can get the train. Far as I know there aren’t any more stops between here and Overlake, and it’s still over a week’s ride away.”

“I know that,” Armin said softly. 

“I want you to consider it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” 

“I knew what I was doing when I stayed here with you. I already decided this was what I was going to do, and you won’t change my mind now.”

“But what about your grandfather?”

“What he wished for most of all was that I come with a story to tell,” Armin said, holding onto Jean’s shirt with both his hands, looking up at him earnestly with those big eyes Jean fell for. “I think this is -  _ we _ are that story.”

“Armin…”

“I mean it,” Armin said. Jean could tell just from his voice that he was telling the truth. “I really mean it, Jean. I want to - I want to know what’s going to happen next. And I won’t let the ending be us getting on a train just so we can say goodbye once we get off.”

“I don’t want that either. Just don’t regret your choice, alright?”

“I won’t.” 

“Good.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Armin pulled back, ran his hands through his hair, and stared down at the floor, obviously deep in thought. Jean just watched him, took in all the details of his form, and smiled. 

“You got new clothes,” he said. “They suit you.”

“It was about time I gave yours back,” Armin replied with a little grin. “As much as I liked wearing them.”

“I liked seeing you wear them too.”

“You did?”

“Of course,” Jean said, and delighted in the way Armin’s cheeks flushed pink. “What time is it, by the way?”

“Late. Past eleven, I know that.”

“What an awful time to wake up.”

“You probably need more rest.”

“I don’t feel that tired,” Jean told him. “Do you?”

“No, I… I slept in the day, also.”

“Oh?” Jean raised an eyebrow. “In this bed?”

Armin’s cheeks flushed from pink to red. 

“We’d done it before, I assumed it would be fine…”

“No, it is fine,” Jean said, a blush spreading over his own face as he reached out and slipped his arms around Armin’s waist. He looked at him seriously but with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, just admiring his face. “No wonder I got better so fast.”

“Jean,” Armin whispered. He was shaking but not from any kind of fear or cold. 

“Yeah?” 

“We should talk about what this means, we - we never got the chance to-“

Jean cut him off with a kiss, unable to resist him any longer, and his large hands held him more firmly, wrapped around Armin’s slender waist. 

“We don’t need to talk,” he murmured, pulling back so little that his lips brushed against Armin’s as he spoke. He hummed. Want was something he’d felt intensely his whole life; Jean had always been ambitious, but when Armin was close he felt like his desire could swallow him whole. “Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”

“You know I don’t want you to stop,” Armin whispered back. “You  _ know _ that.”

“Then kiss me back,” Jean murmured, and Armin did, pressing back against him with the same energy Jean had. It was almost surreal, being there with him like that, up close to him with their bodies pressed against each other as they kissed like it was the last time they’d ever get to. 

“Armin,” Jean murmured, kissing the side of his mouth, then down to his jaw, his hands roaming up to mess with his hair, running his fingers through the strands. Armin whined, exposing his neck, and Jean kissed him there gently, enough to draw out soft noises that sent chills down his spine. 

“Jean!” Armin whined. Clinging onto him, he held Jean tight. He felt like he was burning up, a different kind of fever to the one he’d been suffering with before. It was almost too much, hot under his skin, but at the same time, Jean wanted more so badly it almost scared him. Armin pulled back, looking at him intensely for just a second before he held his face in his hands and kissed him again. 

It was so easy to get caught up in a feeling of pleasure like this. After never having experienced closeness or love in any way his whole life, this kind of attention was something dangerously addictive. Jean never wanted to let Armin go. He was selfish in wanting them to never reach Overlake so he never had to say goodbye. Just the idea of it, the thought of saying goodbye and letting go of the only person in his life who’d ever looked at him in the eye and accepted him - it was almost unthinkable. But after they made it to the city Armin wouldn’t need him any more and he had to accept that. He had his own dreams to chase after, didn’t he?

Did he? 

“What’s wrong?” Armin asked, pulling back just enough for Jean to see the concern in his eyes. “Did you start feeling faint again?”

“Huh?” Jean asked. “No, no, that’s not it. I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Armin said. Jean wondered how on earth he knew him so well. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing. Just thinking about what our next steps are gonna be.”

Armin pulled back and sat on the bed in front of him, fixing his hair and his shirt collar before saying anything else. Was that disappointment on his face? Jean couldn’t be certain. 

“Well… we’d probably do well to set off in the morning if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I will. I feel fine enough  _ now.” _

“We’re not leaving now,” Armin said. “Not a chance. You need to eat. I’ll get something brought up to you. What do you want?”

“I don’t mind,” Jean said. He stood up to go to his bags and get what little money he had, but Armin grabbed him by the wrist and stopped him. 

Jean was ashamed of how hard that made his stomach flip. 

“Let me pay,” Armin insisted, and Jean was so speechless that it was all he could do to sit down and nod his head, just letting him do it. He looked over his new clothes and saw that he had the money. What a strange man, he thought for the thousandth time. “Wait there, and rest.”

With that, Armin left, and Jean lay back on the bed, trying to calm his heart and his breathing. It was almost ridiculous how much Armin affected him. Kissing him made Jean feel more than everything in his life up until then combined, and just looking at him was enough to send his body into turmoil. Sure, Jean knew of his feelings for the same gender before he met Armin, but he could never have guessed how deep and how overwhelming his desire could be. It was much, much bigger than him. In the end he was lucky that Armin felt the same way that he did; Jean might have gone crazy if he didn’t. 

A short while passed before Armin came back with a plate of hot food. Jean ate the whole thing in a matter of minutes, not quite realising how hungry he was until he tasted the first bite. After being asleep for two days, he felt like he could eat enough for five men, but he settled with just the one plate and set it to the side when he was done. 

“Thanks,” he groaned, holding his stomach and lying back on the bed. Armin laughed at him. 

“You’re cute.”

“Cute?” Jean asked, opening one eye and looking over at him skeptically. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I do,” Armin chuckled, his laugh turning into a yawn. Jean yawned too, even though he thought he had no reason to be tired after sleeping for so long. “Do you mind, um… closing your eyes while I change?” 

“I saw you in the river!”

“It’s different now,” Armin murmured. 

“Alright, alright,” Jean said. “I’ll change as well. And you don’t look either, alright?”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

Jean forced thoughts of Armin out of his mind as he dragged his eyes away from him, turning away to face the wall as he got changed into more comfortable clothes. Even with all his effort he couldn’t stop his heart from racing, couldn’t shift the anticipation he felt rushing through his body at the knowledge that soon he’d be under the blankets with Armin again, with no rain to disturb them and no journey to make until the next morning. 

It was warm when they got into bed, but not so hot that they couldn’t tangle up in each other’s embrace and lie there under the sheets, their bodies touching everywhere, pressed against each other with nothing to be ashamed of. They didn’t kiss or move or talk or do anything but lie face to face, their noses touching, staring at each other intensely. Jean looked at Armin and Armin looked back at Jean and it felt like a moment of certainty between the unexpected that had already been and what was yet to come - the parts of their story that hadn’t been written yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry about this chapter. it's been rough the past few days and i've been struggling to write due to headaches (i hit my head really hard) so if there are mistakes please forgive me dskfjlsdk


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, as Jean went to Autumn in the stables, he felt almost completely better. His head was clear, he felt refreshed, and breathing in the cold dawn air was good to his lungs. Armin was waiting for him a little ways ahead, but Jean took his time brushing her coat and feeding her an apple he bought that morning. He loaded his bags and checked her wound, which had healed over nicely; Jean wondered how on earth it had made such a drastic improvement, but he was happy nonetheless. He guessed he had Armin to thank for nursing both him and his horse back to health. 

They planned to make it to Overlake within a week. They’d have to ride for longer each day than initially planned, but with their bags packed full of food for the journey, and all the supplies they’d need, it was sure to be enough to make it there. Jean had enough money left to get himself set up in Overlake for a short while before he found work. And there had to be work for him in the city. He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t find any. 

Why did he kind of want to find out?

“You ready?” Armin called as Jean led Autumn outside and hoisted himself up onto her, making himself comfortable on the saddle. 

“Yep. Let’s get going,” Jean replied. He watched as Armin’s face broke out into a smile and felt the warmth of the sun on his skin. 

Maybe this was all he needed life to be. 

Armin led the way out of the town. It was a sweet little place where the air was clean and the people seemed friendly enough, miles better than the coal-stained Annesburg where smog clogged Jean’s lungs and the men were sick from a lifetime in the mines. Before he followed after Armin, he sat atop Autumn and thought about the possibility of a life where he stayed and got a job on a ranch or in the town somewhere. He could find a wife and have a baby and spend his life securely, living easy with the assurance that each day would be exactly like the one that came before it. That future’s image was burnt so clearly into Jean’s mind, like a memory he hadn’t made yet, something so  _ possible.  _

And just like that, Jean gave up any chance of it becoming real as he pressed on after Armin, choosing him over that future. Just like Armin said, he was chasing for more like everyone else. He wasn’t even close to being satisfied yet - and he knew the adventure he was craving would come as long as his horse kept up with Armin’s all the way to Overlake.

* * *

The first day passed by so smoothly it was almost unusual. Everything went exactly according to plan. They made good pace riding under the overcast sky that protected them from the harsh sun, and didn’t need to worry about rain, as by evening the clouds passed over and left a pale orange sunset behind. They ate well and laughed and talked the whole way, alone out there in the wilderness untouched by townsfolk. They stopped at rivers to drink and splash each other, and always left nature the way they found it, carrying empty cans with them in a separate bag. It felt so  _ good _ . 

They stopped just before nightfall at the base of the mountains they had to travel around. After soaking their feet in freezing river water, they shared crackers, beans, and a can of salted fish for dinner, washed it down with peach juice and hurried to get ready for sleep. 

Armin had purchased another tent along with his clothes, but they didn’t use it. It seemed pointless when all they wanted to do was sleep in each other’s arms. It was cramped but Jean didn’t want it to be any other way. He liked having no space to move without touching Armin - he liked the way their bodies slotted together in the night as naturally as nature surrounding them. The night was loud. After the laughter and the fighting and the singing faded and the people went to sleep, the towns were quiet. Out in the wild, there were a thousand different things to listen for, the call of birds and insects and the wind in the trees, and when they kissed, Jean felt like he and Armin became a part of it all. Laying there in his tent with Armin softly sleeping on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, Jean felt a sense of belonging that came from the inside out. 

It continued. The two days passed in a blur of joy as they made their way around the base of the mountains, travelling all day until sunset, taking breaks to kiss in the trees or race their horses. Jean felt the sun on his face in the morning and on his back in the afternoon and in his arms in the night. 

Jean tried not to think about it ending. He took the days as they came, not wanting to taint the moments. Since leaving his town Jean’s life had changed so much for the better. Meeting Armin along his journey was the best thing that had happened, but Jean was grateful for the change in himself too. He felt  _ happier,  _ just in general. He got to see things out of his town and leave behind his father. The black eye that bruised his face upon leaving had left no trace, and Jean felt free - but nothing could last forever. As beautiful as this time had been, it had to end sometime.

As the days passed by and they made it closer and closer to Overlake, Jean’s supply of peaches began to dwindle until there was only one can left. He hid it amongst his belongings and told Armin they were all gone. When they set up camp that night, alone by a small lake surrounded by tall trees, Jean tried his best to not feel sad and enjoy each moment for what it was, but the mood was different. Armin sat by the fire they made with his knees pulled up to his chest, frowning as he stared at the flames. 

“We’ll most likely be there the day after tomorrow,” he said. 

“Reckon we’ll make it there before nightfall?”

“Should be around midday.”

The silence hung in the air, uncomfortable. Each moment that passed dragged them closer to the end. 

“That should be good, then,” Jean said, just so he couldn’t hear the quiet anymore. “You’ll get to see your-”

“I’m scared,” Armin interrupted quietly. 

_ I know _ , Jean thought.  _ I know that already. You don’t have to say it.  _ He could see it in the way Armin sat and how he bit his bottom lip and how he fiddled with his sleeves just to occupy his hands. 

“Don’t be,” Jean said, like that was easy. “You’ll make it there in time to tell your grandfather all about the journey. You’ve got so many stories for him.”

“Mmhm,” Armin hummed. He folded inwards, retreating on himself, and Jean wondered how he could possibly find the right words to assure him and make him feel better. Words always failed Jean when he needed them most; he was no good with them. 

“He’ll like your stories right?”

“I think so…” 

“Then don’t get so upset,” Jean told him, offering a small, reassuring smile, but Armin didn’t look away from the fire. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“What is it, then?” Jean asked. He’d never spoken so softly to anyone but Autumn. 

There was just silence. Jean didn’t notice the sounds of nature around them - everything became quiet, and all Jean could hear were the words he knew Armin couldn’t bring himself to say. 

_ I’m scared of how this story is going to end.  _

“I-” Armin started, but Jean interrupted him. 

“Come on. Get up.”

“W-what? Jean, it’s dark!” 

“So? That just makes it more of an adventure, doesn’t it?” Jean asked with a grin, getting up to grab Armin by the wrist. So what if he was bad with words? His actions would speak louder than all the things he didn’t know how to say. 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?”

“We’re going swimming in the lake,” Jean announced, taking off his hat and throwing it back towards their camp before dragging Armin behind him.

“It’s dangerous-”

“I’ll protect you.”

“It’s cold!” 

“Then stick close to me,” Jean murmured, looking at him intently as he stopped. “Come on. Let’s make a memory just for us.”

Armin looked up at him, bright-eyed, and looked towards their camp with only a second of hesitation before he nodded and followed Jean towards the water. The lake wasn’t huge but big enough to swim in. Jean stripped down into his underwear and left his clothes on a nearby rock, not taking his eyes off Armin for a second until he did the same. For a moment Jean let his eyes take in every feature and detail of his slender body; his narrow hips, his long hair, the protrusion of his collarbones… 

“Don’t stare like that,” Armin whispered, clearly embarrassed, though he was doing the exact same. 

“I like looking at you,” Jean grinned, walking towards him and slipping his arms around Armin’s waist. “Is that a crime?”

“Yes,” Armin chuckled. 

Jean kissed the smile off his face. He’d be guilty for as long as they were together, he thought, but he didn’t care. Armin was too beautiful to be ignored, his voice too sweet to go unheard, his lips too perfect to go unkissed. Jean wanted him forever. 

The reflection of the moon on the lake was disturbed when they made their way into the water, the white glow rippling with their movements. Armin yelped from the cold, but Jean pushed inwards without a care, knowing that it would be fine once he got used to it. He swam outwards until his feet couldn’t touch the ground, then treaded water with open arms, waiting for Armin to come out to him. 

“It’s too - it’s too cold, Jean!”

“Come here,” Jean laughed, swimming forwards a little bit. “Your body will adjust, don’t be a baby.”

“Watch your tongue,” Armin huffed. Even in the dark Jean could see him pouting, and he thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

“You sound like me.”

“Oh, is that a crime?” Armin teased, reaching Jean and pressing close to him. Being so close to Armin made Jean forget what being cold ever felt like. 

“Stop using my words against me,” he murmured. Wrapping his arms around his lover again, Jean tilted his head down to kiss Armin in the water, letting out a soft, content noise against his lips. 

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kiss you so much you won't have a chance to speak at all.”

“Hmm,” Armin hummed softly, looking up at Jean through his lashes. “That doesn’t sound like much of a punishment to me.”

Jean laughed and kissed him again, his large hands wrapped around Armin’s small waist, and felt nothing but  _ him,  _ close in every way, taking in the smell of his soap and the warmth of his touch and the sound of his quick, needy breaths between kisses that felt like fire. Gradually, Armin’s hands worked up his body; Jean felt Armin touch his hips and his back and his shoulders before he was cupping his face in his hands and kissing him back with intensity. Jean didn’t pull away to breathe. He only deepened the kiss with each minute that passed until they were so close, out of breath but still going. Jean meant to remember it all as a story to tell himself in the future but he couldn’t focus on anything but the experience in each moment. Nothing mattered except this… except  _ them _ . 

_ More, _ he thought. That feeling of needing  _ more… _ it was what Armin talked about - how even having everything you ever wished for always gave way to a greater desire. He understood it when he felt Armin’s kiss, when he felt his hands on his skin and let his thoughts consume him. The thought that in just two days they would be saying goodbye didn’t feel real. Nothing felt real unless Armin would be there. All the memories Jean had of the past felt like a thousand years ago. Even though he’d known Armin for not even a month he felt so certain that - 

He loved him. 

It was a revelation Jean didn’t see coming, one that made him pause as Armin wrapped his legs around his waist under the water and kissed him fervently. It was  _ true.  _ Jean loved him.

But how could he possibly say that, how could he express those words and put it out there when their time together was going to end so soon? It wasn’t fair, not to him and not to Armin. Jean tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the sensation of his lips against Armin’s but it all became too much again when the words repeated in his head over and over, a steady drumming reminder that this was real. He kissed him back like it was a confession, trying to tell Armin everything he couldn’t say out loud. 

Being the way he was, Jean never thought he’d have to worry about love, but there in the lake with Armin he knew it was a problem. Was there no way it could work? Wasn’t there something he could do? 

Even as they left the lake, shivering, and redressed, warmed up by the fire, he thought. He thought as he crawled into his tent with Armin and kissed him some more under the blankets, he thought as Armin drifted off to sleep on his chest, he thought long and hard and still the only thing he was sure of - the only thing that made any sense at  _ all -  _ was that he loved Armin. 

Armin was sleeping, his breathing slow and even, but still Jean couldn’t bring himself to say it. Somehow, it was like the words got stuck in his throat. Maybe he was a coward. So what if he was? Armin hadn’t said it either. Jean didn’t know if his feelings went that deep, and despite being certain that it would make their departure even harder, he still hoped with everything he had that Armin loved him back.

“Jean,” came his voice, then, soft and slurred. Armin sounded like he was in pain as he lay there beside him. 

“Yeah?” Jean whispered back. 

“Jean…” Armin mumbled again. It was too dark to be sure, but Jean was almost sure then that Armin was asleep and dreaming of him. 

“I’m here,” Jean said, leaning down just a little to kiss his forehead. Armin moved closer to him, sighing in his sleep, and held tightly onto his arm. Jean’s heart began to race like it always did and he found himself moving closer too. 

Maybe he couldn’t say ‘ _ I love you,’  _ but he could say this, just for now. 

“I’m here.”


	10. Chapter 10

Overlake wasn’t a large city, but it was a busy one. It sat on high ground, buildings in straight and narrow lines, organised yet somehow everything felt messy. It looked down on a lake that stretched out as far as Jean could see. If he didn’t know better he would have thought it an ocean. Mountains looked down over the city, tall and imposing, casting shadows over everything as the sun hadn’t fully risen over them yet. The streets were crowded with people and noise, wagons and carriages pulled by horses down narrow roads while citizens hurried along dirty pavements to get wherever they needed to go. There was always someone yelling, whether in anger or in an attempt to sell something, always someone reaching out or running away from pursuers. It was chaos. 

The constant noise and the busyness and the streams of people like he’d never met before was all too much for Jean, who was used to small-town life and being on the road alone - but Armin seemed to be enjoying himself greatly. He stared at each building as they passed by, watched people with fascination, and talked at length to Jean who could hardly hear or understand a word he was saying. It must have been easy for someone like him to be able to take in so much information all at once, but to Jean, it was all far too much. 

Especially when he had other things on his mind. 

As Armin rode on ahead of him, Jean did his best to pay attention even though he was struggling to think of anything else but the fact that they were  _ here. _ They were in Overlake, their journey had ended, and after this day, their story would be concluded, and they’d split up to start new chapters in their lives. It hurt Jean more than he knew how to express, even though he knew it had to happen. Armin didn’t need him after this; he’d stay with his grandfather for a while, and head home while Jean stayed here to find a new job and a place where he could flourish and become the person he was supposed to be. This was what Jean had run away for - for  _ change _ , and for a chance to start his life again in a new place. And Overlake was certainly new. 

“I’ll take you to a place you can stay the night!” Armin called, looking back at him. “I know my way, so follow me!”

Jean just gave him a curt nod and held tight to Autumn’s reins, glad that his horse was familiar in this unknown world. Jean didn’t fit in here, but he’d force himself to, and fake it until he felt comfortable. Soon enough, he told himself, he’d be just fine. Swallowing down his uncertainty, Jean repeated those words in his head over and over; he refused to feel scared. Not when he had to deal with saying goodbye to Armin, too. 

“Isn’t it amazing here?” Armin asked. He smiled, turning behind to look at Jean whilst still riding his horse, and Jean wondered if he could burn the sight of him into his memory so he’d never forget. “Jean?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jean said, startled. He stopped short when a carriage in front of them went rushing past, and yelled out in frustration, which resulted in a string of expletives being cursed right back at him. 

“You can’t do that,” Armin said. “Seriously, Jean! You’ll end up in a fight.”

“Yeah, well maybe that’s what I want,” Jean grumbled, but Armin didn’t hear him. 

He led him through the busy streets, eventually arriving at a boarding house where many people rented rooms upon making it to the city for the first time. It had a small stable and a tiny courtyard; it didn’t look particularly nice at all, but it was shelter from the streets and the people occupying them. Jean didn’t want to get off his horse. He felt sick at the idea of saying goodbye, even as Armin helped him get set up with a room. The woman who ran the place was stern but there was a kindness in her eyes. She didn’t seem so bad; even still, Jean didn’t want this. Once again, he assured himself it was right and he would end up wanting it later. He hadn’t wanted to end up at Armin’s side in the beginning, either, but things had turned out different than he could have ever expected. 

“Will you be okay here?” Armin asked quietly, as Jean fiddled with the metal key to his room. For a moment Jean thought he was about to reach out and touch his arm, but he didn’t. Of course not. They weren’t in the wilderness anymore. Their love was no longer just for them - they had to take the eyes of others into account. 

“Of course I will,” Jean said, his voice low. He didn’t say anything else - he couldn’t - but the way he looked at Armin gave away his lie. 

“You can be honest with me. If you’re not fine-“

“Will I see you again?” Jean interjected. Armin was directly in front of him and Jean missed the taste of his kiss. 

“Of course you will,” Armin breathed. “Let me have some time with my grandfather, and then… I’ll come back here and see you in two days before I go. We can have some… some time together, and you can tell me about your new job, okay?”

“I-“

“I know better than to ask you to come with me,” he continued. Jean could see tears shining in his eyes and if they were alone he would have brushed them away himself. “It’s okay.”

“Armin…”

“Jean, it’s - it’s okay. This is the next part of your story, I won’t hold you back from it. I burdened you enough.”

“It’s not like that,” Jean quietly pleaded. 

“Stop.” Armin’s voice was gentle. He spoke like he was trying to convince himself and he smiled like it hurt. Jean felt helpless, words failing him again. He couldn’t pull Armin close to kiss him like he wanted to. “Just give me two days, okay?” 

“Alright,” Jean said, fighting to keep his voice even. “We’ll meet here?” 

“I promise.”

“Okay. Yeah… alright. I’ll see you then. Good luck with your grandfather.” 

“Thank you,” Armin said breathlessly. For just a moment they both looked at each other like they were about to kiss, but then Armin turned away with an expression Jean couldn’t decipher. “I should go…”

“Then go,” Jean told him. “You have a story to tell, don’t you?”

Armin nodded, looked Jean up and down once more, and then he was gone, leaving Jean with nothing but the key to the new life he wasn’t even sure he wanted.

* * *

The first night was lonely. 

Jean thought he knew that feeling. Having grown up with no family that loved him and no close friends, he thought loneliness was something he was used to, a feeling he’d mastered and could ignore. As it turned out, he realised, he hadn’t felt true loneliness until knowing what it was like to feel the pleasures of someone else’s company. He had never felt more alone than he did without Armin. It almost  _ hurt _ \- every time he went to say something Jean had to remember each time that there was nobody else there. He lay in his bed, eyes on the ceiling, warm and dry but so much emptier than he had been that on the night of that storm when, soaking wet and freezing, he had kissed Armin for the first time in his tent. His bed was just a single but it felt too big. That persistent feeling of  _ wrongness  _ wouldn’t let him go, but Jean swallowed his fear and tried to remember that he was bound to be uncertain when making such a change. 

Except upon leaving his town for the first time, he felt nothing but relief. 

“Stop,” Jean murmured to himself, sitting up and throwing off the blankets. There was no use in trying to sleep when his mind was racing at such a rate, so Jean got up and put on his hat and his boots, giving up on rest. He would distract himself until his eyes grew too heavy to stay open, and then he would sleep. Besides, the people in the other rooms weren’t exactly being quiet. It was easy to hear their conversations through the wall. Gathering up some bandages, an apple, and a brush, Jean headed outside and went to his only available source of comfort - Autumn. The nights weren’t cold in the city like they were in the wilderness. Jean didn’t shiver without his coat on his way to the stables. It was warm and the city felt alive like not a single person was sleeping. Still, people yelled and sang and got into fights. Jean could hear them all like they were crickets. 

Was Armin sleeping? Was he okay, there with his grandfather, seeing him for the first time in months, or even years? Jean hadn’t thought to ask how long it had been since Armin had last seen his family. When they were together, Jean was content to just stare at Armin’s face and admire him, but now they were separated he had a thousand questions he’d never get answers to. 

“Hey, girl,” Jean said, letting himself into the stables. Autumn lifted her head when she saw him; she always made Jean smile. “Look what I’ve got.”

He fed her the apple and chuckled as she ate, stroking her mane and resting against her. At least they’d always have each other. He never had to worry about what it would be like to see her take her own path. She loved him as much as he loved her, which was evident when he started to brush her coat and she reacted with happiness. Jean worked slowly and methodically, and let the repetitive motion of his brush calm his nerves and take his mind off things he was sick and tired of thinking about. 

When it came time to change her bandages he could only think of Armin again. The wound on her leg had healed so well, better than Jean had ever thought it would, and he didn’t need to rebandage it, as there was no more risk of infection. It was because of Armin. If he hadn’t helped, Jean didn’t want to think about what might have happened. And even though it was in return for Jean’s help, he felt forever indebted to Armin for what he had done. Not that he could tell him; the words would never come out.

Jean was exhausted by the time he went back to his room. The conversations of other residents had died down, or perhaps he was just too tired to hear them. Jean got into the too-big bed, still wishing Armin was there, and fell asleep to thoughts of him.

* * *

When Jean woke up alone he got out of bed right away. As comfortable as he was, Jean had no intention to give himself any time at all to dwell on his thoughts or let any hesitation slow him down. After a night of very little sleep, he took the time to make himself look presentable - Jean made sure to shave and wash and style his hair before dressing in the best clothes he had to go and search for a job in the city. 

The early morning was just as busy as all the other times of the day. Jean saw everyone start their days, hurrying to the market or to work, some kids making trouble, street vendors and newspaper sellers… it was chaos that seemed to barely hold together, but it worked somehow, like a clock just barely ticking. Jean wondered how he would fit in, what role he’d play as a cog in the machine of the city. It was nothing like the long and dragging days in his hometown, the mood of nothing ever changing, and Jean hoped that once he was used to the hectic atmosphere, he’d begin to enjoy it. Sure, maybe the air tasted like smoke and he couldn’t stand being bumped into - but he couldn’t stay in the countryside forever. He just couldn’t. 

Despite his best efforts, Jean thought of Armin as he rode quickly down Overlake’s busy streets, hunting for work. After being rejected from two general stores back-to-back, all he could focus on was what Armin might be doing. Would he even be awake right now? How was his grandfather? Did he tell their story, and if he did, what parts were kept private? Jean didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to find out; he just wanted to see him now. He missed Armin’s laughter and the way he kissed him shyly and the feeling of his hands on his skin; he missed the sweet, cool breeze against his face as he rode through forests atop Autumn, side-by-side with Armin, listening to him describe different species of fish or any other strange story that would have been uninteresting if anyone else were telling it. 

Jean found himself riding towards the edge of the city. He hated waiting on the streets behind carriages, hated how full the roads were. On the outskirts of the city, there weren’t quite so many people, and Jean felt able to breathe a little better. He stopped and hitched Autumn outside a grocer’s, deciding to try his luck there. 

A bell rang as he walked in, and the old man at the counter looked up, then nodded. Jean could see a crate of fresh peaches and reached for the coins in his pocket. 

“Morning,” the man said. 

“Mornin’,” Jean replied. He picked up a peach and inspected it, then walked over to the man. “Just this.”

“That’s a nickel.”

Jean handed the coin over and looked around. 

“Nice place you have here,” he said. “You looking for any help? I have experience.” 

The man chuckled and shook his head; Jean tried not to let his disappointment show on his face, and smiled, standing up a little straighter.

“I have this place handled just fine,” he said kindly. “You’re new to the city, aren’t you?”

“I just got here yesterday,” Jean nodded. 

“You’d do well to try the railroad. They’re always looking for fit young men like you.”

“Really?” Jean asked. 

“Yes,” the grocer said. “Ride south from here and then follow the tracks west to the station. It’s not too far.”

“Thank you,” Jean said, a little surprised. The old man smiled and reached over the counter, picking up another peach and holding it out. 

“Take another, for luck.”

“What’s the catch?” Jean raised an eyebrow. 

“Cynical, aren’t you?” The man chuckled. “Go ahead, take it.”

Jean was still a little skeptical, but he took the peach anyway, and the old man laughed at him. It reminded him of the way Armin laughed when Jean was surprised by all the kind things he did for him. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Be seeing you,” Jean nodded, and tipped his hat as he left. The morning sun was already high in the sky, Jean felt it warm his face as he bit into the ripe peach. It was so delicious that he couldn’t help but smile, the taste reminding him of Armin, and he felt just a little better as he rode towards the station.

* * *

True to the old man’s word, the station wasn’t too far away. Jean hitched Autumn and walked towards the main building, his second peach in his bag, and spoke with the clerk at the front desk. The boss wasn’t there today, he said, so Jean would have to come back tomorrow in order to sign up and start working. But, the clerk said, railroad workers were always in demand, so as long as Jean showed up in the morning he’d find work with decent pay, provided he was strong enough. 

It was a relief, but it also felt like a curse, almost as if part of him was hoping that he wouldn’t actually find a job. He felt angry with himself, frustrated. This was the chance he’d been dreaming of for so long, and now he was having second thoughts. What was the point then, in all this? If he was going to give up on this chance for a new life, what was even the point in running away from his hometown in the first place? 

He met Armin. 

As Jean rode back to the boarding house, he could feel the second peach in his bag and he didn’t want to eat it. If Armin was there, he would have given it to him without a second thought. Jean thought about the way Armin smiled whenever he ate. His heart hurt as he headed back, and wondered quite how long it would take before he felt like himself again. It would happen eventually. He’d stop missing Armin and he'd have the easy life he had dreamed of. 

Jean made no effort to get to know any of the other residents in the boarding house. When he got back he went straight to his room, changed out of his good clothes, and wasted the hours away sleeping.

* * *

Jean awoke early the next day to the sound of heavy knocking on the door to his room. Exhausted, he forced himself up and out of bed, expecting to be yelled at by the head of the boarding house, but upon opening the door he only saw Armin there, looking up at Jean like just the sight of him was about to make him cry.

“Jean,” he sniffed, then threw his arms around him, almost knocking Jean back off his feet, and he yelled out in surprise. 

“Armin, at least let me close the door!” he whispered frantically, pulling back to ensure their privacy. “The walls are thin, you have to be quiet-“

“I’m sorry - I just… I missed you.” 

Jean ignored the shaking of his hands and the quickened beating of his heart, and sat Armin down on his bed, focusing extra hard to keep himself calm. It just felt so  _ good _ to see Armin again after two awful lonely nights without him. 

“I thought you were coming this evening?” he asked, and Armin shook his head. 

“I wanted to come as soon as I could, I - I’m sorry if I woke you, just… do you have long?”

“I need to be at the station in a while,” Jean said, quickly checking the time. He scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly, unable to take his eyes away from Armin. 

“The station?” Armin asked. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere. I’m going for a job. I asked yesterday, and they told me to come back today.”

“...Oh.”

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Armin said, obviously lying. He reached over and took Jean’s hands in his. “It’s okay.”

Jean wanted to tell him he knew it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t for either of them. But the words, once again, refused to leave him. 

“How’s your grandfather?”

“He’d almost picked up entirely before I even arrived,” Armin sighed. “I’d been worrying about him for nothing… he’ll be fine.”

“Did he like your stories?”

“He loved them.” Armin smiled sadly down at his lap, and Jean felt the soft touch of his thumbs on the back of his hands. Armin was always so gentle with him. He feared he’d never be touched like that again. He was going to miss it forever. “He said you seem like an interesting character.”

“Oh, did he now?” 

“Yes, he did,” Armin said, huffing out a small laugh. “Obviously I didn’t tell him  _ everything, _ but… I think he’s a smart enough man to fill in the gaps.”

“He wouldn’t mind that?” 

“Not at all.”

“How’d you know?”

“I just do,” Armin shrugged. “I can understand people like that. Like how I knew you were a good man the moment I met you.”

Jean looked at him, wide-eyed and a little shocked, but Armin just smiled back at him. 

“When… when are you…” Jean tried to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out. To ask when Armin was leaving would mean he would have to hear the answer, and he couldn’t stand to know. 

“Soon,” Armin breathed. Of course he knew exactly what he meant. 

“How soon?”

“After we talk here. My grandfather doesn’t like it when I spend too long in the city.” 

“Armin-” 

“I think I’m going to try and make it to the coast,” Armin interrupted, looking up at him. “I’ll keep heading west, and see the ocean. It’s been far too long.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Jean whispered. 

“You’d like it so much.”

“I bet I would.”

“Will you-” Armin started, but Jean interrupted before he could speak. He couldn’t answer the question Armin had been about to ask. 

“If you’re sure you’ll be safe, you should do it.” 

Armin looked like he was about to burst into tears, but he just nodded. Jean felt so guilty that it hurt deep in his chest. 

“I will be,” Armin sniffed, his eyes full of tears. “I’ll be safe, I promise. And I’ll pass through Overlake on my way back.”

“You’d better.”

“I promise.” 

They sat there for a moment, just staring into each other’s eyes, before Armin moved to close the gap between them, taking Jean’s face in his hands and kissing him with such force that Jean fell back onto the bed, Armin on top of him. Jean gasped with shock, his body and face on fire from the feeling, and he held Armin in return, hands on his waist, pulling him so close. If this was their last kiss, he wanted it to be special. He wanted it to be a kiss to remember. 

Armin kissed him like that was all he wanted as well, deepening their embrace further. Jean wished they were out in the middle of nowhere, sharing a tent with nobody to disturb them, free to make all the noise they wanted, but the walls were thin and they had little time. 

“Ar’,” Jean gasped, having to push him off to breathe; it took all the mental strength he had to break their kiss. “Armin, we can’t do this here.”

“But…” 

“I know. I know.”

“I wish I could stop time.”

“If only,” Jean chuckled sadly. They sat up, both breathless from the kiss, and brushed off their clothes. Here, I’ve got something for you.”

“For me?” 

“It’s nothing special, don’t get your hopes up,” Jean said. He went over to his bag and took out the last can of peaches as well as the fresh peach he got from the grocer the day before. “Here.”

Armin looked down at the tin in shock, turning it over to look at the label, and then he began to cry, tears silently falling down his cheeks. 

“I - I thought you ran out?”

“I was saving the last one for you,” Jean said, fondness evident in both his face and his voice as he looked lovingly at Armin. “For your journey.”

Armin covered his face with his hands and his shoulders began to shake; Jean put his arm around him and pulled him close. 

“I’m going to really miss you,” he sobbed. 

“Shh, you’ll be fine,” Jean told him. “You managed just fine before you met me, right?”

“That’s not the point…”

“I’ll miss you too, though.”

“You will?”

“Of course.”

“Then -”

“I have to go to the station,” Jean whispered. He couldn’t let Armin ask because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist saying yes. 

Armin took Jean’s hands again and squeezed once before letting go and standing up. 

“I’ll ride with you,” he said, forcing a smile. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

* * *

At the stable, Armin pulled two apples from his bag and gave one to Autumn and the other to Cerise. It made Jean’s heart ache, seeing the way he was with her. Cerise was loaded with all of Armin’s things, while Autumn carried only her saddle; the rest of Jean’s things were packed away in his new room. His heart kept hurting all the way as they rode to the station together, each step closing the gap until they reached the last destination they’d get to as a pair. When it came into view, Jean felt sick to his stomach, but he kept reminding himself that this was what he  _ wanted. _

Stability. A job. A future that was predictable and certain.

His time with Armin was fun while it lasted, but it had to end eventually. 

They hitched their horses and Jean swallowed the lump in his throat. He patted Cerise and made sure that he’d never forget her, either, and then he turned to Armin and offered him a thin, strained smile. He wanted to cry, even more so when Armin patted Autumn and said his farewells to her.

“Well, I - I guess this is goodbye,” Armin whispered. He moved forwards like he was going to hold him, but with the number of people around, they couldn’t. 

“For now, right?” Jean said. He was trying to reassure himself more than anything. “We’ll meet again when you come back through the city.”

“Mmhm,” Armin nodded; Jean could see the tears in his eyes. “Of course.”

“Enjoy the peaches, okay?”

“I will! I promise, I will.”

“And take care of Cerise.”

“You too, with Autumn.”

“You know I will.”

“I know,” Armin laughed tearily. “Oh, Jean…”

“Armin,” Jean whispered. “You changed my life for the better in every way. And I can’t thank you enough.”

“Me too,” Armin said, covering his face with his hands. “Me too. I - I’ve never had so much fun in my whole life. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I - I-”

“It’s alright,” Jean said. “It’s okay, Armin.”

_ I love you,  _ he thought. 

“I’m okay,” Armin echoed, taking in a deep breath, then nodding and smiling. “I’m okay.”

There was a long pause as they both delayed the inevitable. 

“I should head over,” Jean whispered. 

“O-okay.”

“But… let me watch you ride off first.”

“Why?” 

“So I can see you for longer.”

Armin sniffed, and nodded, and turned to mount his horse, but at the last second he hesitated and pulled Jean in for a tight hug. Jean felt so relieved that he didn’t care who saw or what they might think. It was over in just a second but Jean knew the feeling of Armin’s touch would linger on his skin for hours. Armin pulled away and mounted his horse, then smiled at him one more time.

“Jean?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’ll have a good story for you the next time we meet.”

Jean smiled, nodded, and looked up at him.

“I look forward to hearing it.”

Then, as Armin smiled once more and began to ride off, Jean could do nothing but stare, paralysed by all the words he didn’t say until Armin turned around the corner and disappeared from view.

“I love you,” he murmured quietly.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Jean was out on the railroad, letting his new boss show him around. The railroad work looked like it would be tough, but the pay was decent, and Jean could work his way up this ladder and here, he was sure. 

_ But for what?  _ A voice in his head asked him, and Jean tried his best to ignore it. 

He hoped Armin was okay. He hoped he wasn’t crying, he hoped he would make it to the ocean safely, he hoped he would live through a thousand stories and be able to tell them all. 

“You’ll be working with these guys,” his boss nodded, and then continued talking, but Jean couldn’t focus on what he was saying. He felt like he was making a huge mistake, but what was he supposed to do? Armin was gone and his choice had been made. He was here. He was at the end of the journey he’d left his home town for. The person he’d been when he left almost a month ago was somebody new, somebody who had achieved the longest part of the dream his older self had. 

As Jean was introduced to his new colleagues, he patted his pocket, and felt something inside. Frowning, he pulled out a sheet of folded paper, and as soon as he read the words written on it, he stopped still completely. Had Armin slipped this into his pocket when he hugged him?

_ Jean _ , it read. 

_ Forgive me for not having the courage to give this to you; I felt like I would cry too much, and I didn’t want to burden you with my emotions more than I already have. I just wanted to give this to you, just in case you may ever need it again.  _

Jean turned the letter over and saw that on the back, Armin had written down the recipe for the herbal remedy he made that healed Autumn’s wound so easily. His hands were shaking as he continued to read. 

_ When we meet again, I’ll make some for you. I’ll do anything you want. Just tell me a good story, okay? That means you must live a good life.  _

_ I love you. I’m sorry I told you like a coward. _

_ Yours, Armin. _

Before Jean knew it he was running as fast as he could back to Autumn, ignoring the confused shouts of his boss and everyone else as he sprinted, the letter still in his hand. That idiot. That idiot, thinking Jean could ever do anything but run to him after giving a letter like that! And now it might have been too late after everything, and he might have lost him. 

There was no time to go to his room in the boarding house to collect his things. Just like Armin had done in Overlake, Jean left them behind, but instead of running away, this time he was running towards something. The thing he  _ truly  _ wanted, not some idea of wealth he’d dreamed of before he knew what it was like to truly want. As Armin told him, Jean wasn’t satisfied leaving things the way they were. And maybe he was selfish and stupid and too young but he didn’t  _ care.  _ He couldn’t let it end like that. Not when he knew finally had the courage to speak the words out loud and tell Armin how deep his feelings truly went. 

Atop Autumn Jean raced down the busy streets, people passing like a river, buildings passing like trees. He ignored the shouts and swearing and every angry remark as he pushed down the way he saw Armin leave. Autumn seemed thrilled to race and Jean wasn’t one to stop her. She deserved a better life than one in this city, too. 

Out of the city, the buildings thinned until the forest took over and Jean still didn’t stop. He felt the rush of the wind in his face, his eyes stinging, but he didn’t care for any of that. All he wanted was to see Armin again, to reach him before he was too far. He had to make it. At a crossroads Jean didn’t hesitate; he made a choice and hoped it would be the right one. There was no time to sit and ponder which way Armin might have gone. 

And then he reached the top of a hill, and looking down, he saw a familiar horse and head of blonde hair at the bottom. There was the man who had outsmarted bandits without hesitation, the man that healed his horse, that taught him to find mushrooms and to value the importance of stories. He was the man who taught Jean who he was and what he wanted, and there was no way Jean was letting him go now. 

At the top of his lungs, he shouted. 

“Armin!” At the bottom of the hill, Armin stopped. He knew he should have kept going and reached him before yelling his confession in return but Jean couldn’t wait any longer. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t come with you, I - I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry, and I love you, too! Let me go to the ocean with you!”

He was so far away, but Jean knew - he just  _ knew -  _ that Armin was smiling, and he’d never felt more excited in his life. 

This wasn’t the end of their story. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh, i can't believe i managed to actually write this whole story this month! i'm super surprised i managed to do it, but i'm really thankful to my friends and everyone who commented to support me :D thank you all. this has been a blast to write, and i hope you enjoyed it!! please let me know what you think in the comments, or on my twitter, @vidnyia, where my dms are always open for anyone who wants to talk about jearmin or writing or anything! than you again!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! reviews are really appreciated. :) 
> 
> also, you can find me on twitter @vidnyia ! i'm always down to chat about jearmin!!


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